


Helga G Pataki: Hillwood's New Superhero

by KlutzyMaiden123



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Aliens being douche bags, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Eventual Romance, F/M, Feminist Themes, Girl Power, Helga as the main character, High School, Inspired by Sailor Moon, Slow Burn, Strangers to Comrades to Friends, Superhero Shenanigans, cause she's awesome, vigilantism sorta I guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 75,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlutzyMaiden123/pseuds/KlutzyMaiden123
Summary: As if my life hadn't already been difficult. I already had to watch the love of my life, Arnold, make goo-goo eyes at Ms. Perfect while completely ignoring me. Now, I had to juggle school, friends, keeping my interest for him secret and battling evil dressed in a ridiculously skimpy leotard, all the while keeping my secret lifestyle as a superheroine from my nosey classmates.





	1. Is This How Prologue's Are Supposed To Go?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I recently began re-watching Hey, Arnold! and fell in love with it again - I mean, the complexity, the characters, the mature themes, the adults jokes - GAH! It's so much for my little heart to handle. And, of course, fucking Arnold/Helga as a couple is actually my dreams, ohmygosh. I've loved them ever since I was a kid and still do, except probably moreso.
> 
> So, yeah, you know, disclaimer, disclaimer - I don't own Hey, Arnold!, I'm not making money from this, blah blah blah bleigh! Anyway, on with the show!

I was perfectly content living my perfectly average life.

Average was nice. Average was good. Average was  _safe._

"Helga –  _what_ on earth are you doing?!"

 _This_  on the other hand? This was  _so_  not. This was not average. This was not nice, nor was it good. And, most certainly, this was  _not_ safe.

 _This_  being hiding behind a bush, squeezed tightly into a ball, in an attempt to escape the sight of the huge (eight foot, to be exact) fucking monster currently looking for me. The monster was on it's hands and knees, peering under a park bench for any signs of the dumb human girl dressed like she were a fucking Victoria's Secret model. Well, it  _had_  been looking for me, but, thanks to  _Nel_ ¸ it's glowing eyes shot up and, following Nel's line of vision (damned coward was watching safely from a tree branch), located my form. A hoarse growl ripped from it's throat as it's eyes narrowed into a glare.

I gulped.

Uh oh.

The monster –  _thing_  – hadn't even stood up from it's knees before I leapt to my feet and bounded off. I tried holding back the scream bubbling in my throat, but upon hearing fast, thundering footsteps approaching me from behind, I couldn't help letting loose the most pathetic, high-pitched shriek in existence. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I'm fairly sure I didn't need my enhanced hearing to hear Nel smacking her forehead in response, which quite frankly would've been a sight to behold. You know, Nel being a cat and all . . . not that a cat face-palming was  _really_ the most shocking thing I'd witnessed today.

I was, after all, running for my life from an eight-foot tall alien, dressed in nothing but a white leotard and heels.

Hmm, perhaps this isn't the correct place to begin my story, huh? This picture doesn't seem to make sense. Forgive me, this is my first try at a prologue and I really have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to be writing. Because quite frankly I never really understood a prologue's point to the story. I mean, couldn't their information just be integrated into the rest of the story? Why do they get their own spot at the beginning of the book, when much more important things could be established? Like, perhaps the  _characters_  –

Oh.

Ahem,  _anyway_ , no matter, I'll just re-start from the beginning this time.

So, let's see, it all began–


	2. Of Purple-Eyed Black Cats and White Bathing Suits

–on a Monday morning.

An absolutely beautiful Monday morning.

Ah, yes – the sun's glorious rays pierced brilliant through the cracks of my blinds. A chorus of bid's melodious chirps were singing ever so sweetly and my heart soared in delight. Despite yesterday's terribly dreary day, accompanied with sheets of rain and dominant clouds, today seemed awfully–

Oh, fuck it. Who am I kidding?  _No one_ actually thinks mornings are 'beautiful', much less  _Monday mornings._

Sharp streaks of sunlight slipped in between the blind's cracks, spearing my shut lids and practically rendering me blind. I groaned, why couldn't it be cloudy like yesterday?

Scrunching my face, I turned on my other side, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, and attempted to fall back asleep. Just as I felt myself slipping back into my unconscious – and, oh so beautifully blissful – state, a sharp knock to my door drew me out of shape.

Eyes still shut, I frowned. I didn't need to open the door to hear her (disgustingly perky) voice singing for me to wake up, and I most certainly did not need to see her right now. But, as expected, she didn't wait for a reply before barging right in. I could feel her painfully cheerful smile plastered on her perfectly perfect face as she looked at me.

Grumbling, I turned back towards my window – I'd  _much_  prefer the sun's perkiness to my sister's.

"Baby sis, it's time to get up now!" I  _despise_  that cheery tone and had to restrain myself from barfing. She remained ignorant to my growing annoyance, as her footsteps began to approach my haven across the wooden floors.

There was some shuffling at the end of the bed, then suddenly a bright beam of sunlight hit my room sharply, stinging my eyes. "You idiot!" I roared in pain, drawing back. My hands flew to my face as I attempted to shield my poor, innocent eyes from the heinous sun's glare.

Turning back on my other side, I pulled my covers over my head and curled up into a small ball. There, I smirked, problem solved.

Olga giggled in response (giggled –  _giggled!_ Who  _does_  that on a Monday morning?), reminding me that I was far from having my current troubles solved. "You need to get up some time," Ugh. Her smile was more penetrative then the sun - I could feel it through my pillows, blankets and shut eyes. "C'mon, baby sis, the bus'll be here soon!"

Okay, that's an upright  _lie._  Even  _Olga_ knows that Pete, the bus driver, was slower then a snail slithering through a batch of peanut butter. Personally, I blamed his age – everyone knows how slow old people are these days. Honestly, I was waiting for the day that I'd be greeted with the face of a newer, younger and  _quicker_  bus driver. One that  _actually_ picked me up from my house instead of making me walk down the street.

. . .  _still_ , as much as I  _loathed_ to admit it, Olga was –  _shudder_  – not wrong. At least, not at the present moment. It wasn't unknown for me to sleep in and sometimes arrive later then  _Pete_. That sly bastard took to much pleasure in making me run down the street as he happily ignored me waving my arms around like a turkey learning to fly, frantically screaming at the top of my lungs.

I let out a sigh of defeat. Looks like I had to get up.

I slowly opened my eyes. The morning light hitting my window stung my eyes and I let out a hiss, sharply drawing my elbow over my face. I shook my head, forcing myself to shed any remaining glimpses of my dream (it had been such a nice dream, too), before forcing my eyes open.

The light didn't hurt the third time, which hardly mattered. No, the first thing that popped into my vision was Olga and her dumb smile. I frowned, did she have to be so cheery about  _everything?_

Propping myself onto my elbows, I rubbed my eyes and pinched my nose. "Olga, pray tell,  _what_  time is it?"

Olga clasped her hands and peered at the black watch on her wrist. "Mmm . . . 7:20?"

My eyes widened.

Drowsiness forgotten, I shot up like a pistol. "7:20?!" I demanded, looking straight into her mascaraed eyes. Olga drew back, holding up her hands in defence with a sheepish smile. "D-Did you just say 7:20!"

The smile wavered. "Y-Yeah . . ."

"CRIMINY!"

Leaping from my blanketed heaven, I stumbled across the room, snatching crumbled pieces of my uniform from the floor. "Geeze – Olga, why didn't you wake me earlier?"

Olga rose a brow and titled her head. "Sorry, I thought you were gonna get up earlier . . ."

I sent her a baffled look. "Since when do I  _ever_  wake up earlier?" I shook my head, remembering the situation at hand. "Oh, who cares I only have a few minutes to get ready, downstairs and down the street – urgh, I don't have  _time_  to argue with you!"

Olga simply winked, heading for the door with her arms folded behind her back. "Don't worry, little sis, I already packed your lunch for yo–"

She hadn't even finished her sentence before I had slammed the door in her face and begun shedding off my pajamas. Tugging on the uniform, I realised that I had forgotten to wash my shirt, as there was now a brown stain on the left breast ( _chill,_  it was from the chocolate ice cream I had). Groaning, I slapped my forehead and reached for my hairbrush, yanking it through my haystack of hair. There wasn't anything I could do about the stain until I got back.

Tying my hair in its two signature ponytails with pink bows, I scanned the face in the mirror. Yup, I thought with a nod, I deem my eyebrows acceptable for the day.

Throwing on my black hoodie, I applied deodorant and raced out the door whilst attempting to pull a sock onto my naked foot. I hadn't even realised that I had reached the stairs until I lost my balance and–

**SMACK!**

**BANG!**

**CRASH!**

–fell down the stairs.

"Criminy!" I roared, rubbing my pained rear. I shakily climbed to my feet and limped for the kitchen. My eyes swept carelessly over the couch and met Olga's concerned gaze. "Olga, you dummy, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"Shh!" Olga sent me a panicked look, placing a finger to her mouth and sharply looking at the couch behind me before meeting my gaze again. My eyes narrowed and I pursed my lips. I didn't have to know that it was Miriam she was gesturing to, passed out and clutching onto her empty smoothie.

Olga didn't want to wake her, but obviously had no idea just how unconscious Miriam regularly was. Regardless, I didn't care if I roused her.

I practically snatched my school bag from Olga's outstretched hand and marched for the front door, not giving a backwards glance to my passed out 'mother', making sure to slam the door on my way out.

Outside, I was reminded of the earlier rain from yesterday from the wet concrete. Taking a calming breathing through my nostrils, I ran a hand through my hair. Blinking the image from my head, I let out a long breath, crossing my arms over my chest, and marched down the steps.

My foot hadn't even touched the pavement when a yellow blur whizzed past me. I blinked, flabbergasted – once, twice, thrice.

_W-Was that . . ._

Looking in the direction the yellow blur had gone, I realised that indeed yes, that had been a bus.

. . .  _oh my God, that was the_ school  _bus!_

Letting out a shriek, I bolted in it's direction, heart pounding in acceleration.

Frantically, I waved my hands in the air, yelling out to the bus, in some desperate hope that Pete would recognize the wild-looking teenager running to the best of her ability. Unfortunately, he didn't notice (bullocks, obviously he had, he just hated me that much) and continued driving.

The bus sharply turned at the corner of the end of the street. I gulped, but didn't slow down. Rounding the same corner, I gripped onto the pole and sharply turned. Swinging around, for a split second, my gaze locked onto a pair of bright purple eyes.

My eyes widened –  _purple eyes_?

I realised all to late that the pavement was still wet from last night's rain and, within a few seconds, found myself flat on my back with a throbbing ankle. Hissing in pain, I slowly sat up and clutched my wounded limb.

Rubbing at my ankle, I found myself involuntarily seeking out those eyes again. I found them quickly, across the street, and blinked. Those eyes – glimmering pairs of orbs reminiscent of amethysts – belonged to a black cat. The feline was perched on the roof of a parked car, tail swishing sharply in the air. It blinked owlishly at me and nervously I drew back. The creepy thing was barely moving, instead it just stared at me, practically burning a hole straight through me. I felt unnerved that it's eyes never moved from my form and had the distinct feeling that perhaps I was being judged.

_What the fu–_

Our apparent stare competition was interrupted by a familiar horn honking from down the street. I jumped and looked over my shoulder. Apparently, the bus had decided to stop and currently was waiting for me, half way down the street. I frowned, feeling my cheeks heat. That dumb old fart  _knew_  I had been running and had only  _now_ decided to stop and wait?

My earlier stare off forgotten, I scrambled to my feet and dusted myself off any dirt I may have acquired from my little,  _ahem_ , trip. Before I left, I looked over my shoulder at the cat. It's big eyes were still trained on me, not flicking away for a second. Gulping, I turned back and stalked for the bus, taking my god damn time in reaching it.

The door shuddered open when I finally reached it. I cast up a glare at Pete, who pointedly ignored me, but I could just feel the annoyance radiating off him. Man, I hate Pete and his stupid hand-bar mustache. Hmp, he thinks it's  _so_  attractive, when really it disgusted his wife beyond belief so much that she refused to kiss him until he decided to shave it off . . . I have no idea how I knew that.

Gritting my teeth, I kept my gaze downcast onto my shoes as I made my way down the aisle, ignoring the annoyed looks thrown my way. What, it wasn't  _my_ fault that Pete had decided to be on time today.

I sunk into the closest available seat, allowing myself to look up when the amount of glares had eased and the bus had sprung back to life. I pulled the hoodie over my head, slumping in my seat and digging my hands into my pockets. Instinctively, my eyes sought out and found the familiar mob of blonde, wild hair sitting up at the front, chatting away animatedly to his best friend. My heart thundered and I almost groaned in response, barely restraining myself from banging my head against the window.  _He_  (he being the magnificent, glorious and beautifully perfect) sat with his back turned in my direction, oblivious to my very existence.

Ugh,  _kill me now_.

It's been seven years –  _seven_  – of me watching– no,  _admiring_  Arnold from afar. Pretending to look out the window, I peered at him from the corner of my eye. How I loved his messy hair that managed to stick up at awkward angles from his oddly-shaped head, sat upon his perfectly proportion body. Thankfully, the one benefit our school uniforms being mandatory was that it forced Arnold to ditch those awful flannels, instead wearing properly buttoned shirts with short enough sleeves that allowed me to appreciate the beautifully sculpted muscles layering his arms.

Mhmm-mmm, I would  _die_  for his arms . . . and his  _eyes_. Those sparkling green orbs that managed to pull in  _anybody_  with their striking shade of emerald.

_Dumbass hormones._

I sighed. As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't  _entirely_ blame my hormones. I mean, yeah, they were a bitch, but I'd been in love with the guy since pre-school. Could I really blame those teenage sensations I got just a few years ago? Hell, when I was nine, I had dedicated a  _shrine_  to Arnold made from his gum! Yeah, I was  _obsessed._  Though, if anything, you gotta give me points for dedication since that had  _not_ been easy.

I tried getting over him. Like, I really, really,  _really_  tried. I got rid of my shrine, threw away my poetry, cut off all social contact with him. But  _alas_  it appears that one does not need social contact to admire the golden child that is Arnold Shortman. No, one does not need to speak with such a fair spirit to know he only utters the finest of words. One does not need to listen to hear his deep baritone and chocolatey melting voice. One does not even need to look to see how absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful he is, body and soul. No, Arnoldo was simply  _that_ perfect a human being that a fool simply cutting off her ties with him of course would not result in her ignorantly abandoning her infatuation for a man as exquisite as this.

So, in short,  _no_ , I had not gotten over him even remotely.

Arnold was, to put it simply, to good a person to simply get over. Anyone who wasn't aware of this was, in my books, simply insane. Furthermore–

_**Screeeeeeeeech!** _

My head flew forward and collided with a  _thump!_  onto the bar in front of me. I groaned, feeling an ugly headache forming. There was an uprising of voices from school kids, all vocalising their annoyance at the sudden (and dangerous) halt the bus had taken. Rubbing my forehead, I glared up at the back of Pete's head, fury igniting when he simply ignored my heated glare.

Looking out the window, I almost cried – we were stopped outside of, ugh,  _Lila's_  house. I threw another dirty look at Pete – sure, he has no problem stopping outside of Miss Perfect's house, but  _mine?_  'Simply unnecessary, Ms. Pataki.' My eyes narrowed to slits as the door shuddered open and the perfect specimen stepped– nay,  _glided_  up the steps, hugging her thick books to her chest. She shyly avoided our looks (you know, of the students who almost  _died_ ) as she walked down the aisle, her freckled cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

I hated to admit it, but Lila had only become more beautiful as time passed us by. As a child, she'd been cute – an absolute pinnacle of femininity – but time stripped her of her baby fat and blessed her with slender, delicate curves. Lila had ditched her braids and now wore her hair around her shoulders in loose waves. Her almond-shaped eye were like pools of sapphires, electric blue, and contrasted with her fiery, red hair. Despite her obvious beauty, the uniform hung awkwardly from her body – I  _swear_ , Lila had not grown a centimetre since elementary.

My heart lurched when Arnold sat up tall in his seat at the sight of her, watching her with the eyes of a puppy. Gerald, in response to Arnold's stance, groaned and smacked the heel of his palm to his forehead. "Lila," Arnold breathed, as if he were in the presence of an angel. Hearing her name spoken, Lila's eyes briefly flickered to Arnold's before uncomfortably turning away. Purposely, she sat down at the furthest available seat, forcing herself to look out the window.

I blinked, wondering what I had just witnessed. My stomach sunk into the pit of my soul as Arnold's' face fell, his shoulders slumping forward, from Lila's rejection. Swallowing, I turned back to the window, determined to ignore whatever was going on. However, I could still hear some of their conversation ( _not_  that I was purposely eavesdropping, of course). "C'mon, Arnold," Gerald said in an exhausted voice, turning to his best friend, "It's been  _six_ years, man.  _Six_  years. You've gotta let it go. Like that chick from Frozen!"

"I know, Gerald," Arnold sighed, eyes downcast. "It's just . . . so hard, y'know? I mean, yeah, it's been six years and . . . it's hard to let a girl like that go. It's  _Lila_ , for God's sake – she's  _perfect_."

That word struck a chord in me, ringing in my ears. My eyelids fluttered as I struggled to hold back the tears. Swallowing loudly, I dug into my bag and pulled out my phone.

Popping in both earphones, I scrolled through my playlist to find something sad sounding. A particular song caught my interest, one I hadn't heard in a while, so clicking it, I rested my head back and closed my eyes as it begun to play.

_I see you standing here_   
_But you're so far away_   
_Starving for your attention_   
_You don't even know my name_

I could've cried. These lyrics, these words, they were hitting particularly sore spots that I hadn't told anyone about.

_You're going through so much_   
_But I know that I could be the one to hold you_

Placing both my elbows on the bar, I buried my head in my folded arms and shut my eyes.

 _Every single day_  
I find it hard to say  
I could be yours alone  
You will see someda–

Gritting my teeth, I sat up from my slumped form with a huff. This was supposed to be  _helping_  me, not making it worse. Without looking, I skipped the depressing song, sitting my head back atop of my folded arm.

_Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na_

_Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na,_

The corners of my mouth tilted upwards as my feet began tapping to the rhythm of the song.  _Finally –_ a song I could relate to without feeling depressed.

_I guess I just my lost husband,_

_I don't know where he went,_

_So, I'm gonna drink my money,_

_I'm not gonna pay his rent,_

_I got a brand new attitude and_

_I'm gonna wear it tonight,_

_I wanna get in trouble,_

_I wanna start a fight_

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief when the bus finally pulled up in front of the school. It had been downright agonizing listening to Arnold go on and on about Miss Perfect. Gerald began looking how I felt – with his cheek pressed against the window and unintelligent groans falling from his open mouth. And, despite sitting up at the back, Lila looked uncomfortable, like she already knew that she was topic of discussion for the entirety of the bus trip.

Regardless of her obvious disinterest in Arnold's affections, I couldn't stop the surge of jealousy rushing through me any time he would watch at her, with that handsomely dumb love-struck look. I knew I should be happy that Lila clearly has no interest, but rejecting one of the kindest guys at Hillwood High didn't strike me as awfully smart. If not Arnold,  _who_  could actually earn her affections?

Anyway, once we had arrived outside the school, I jumped to my feet as if I were on fire, ready to leave. So had Miss Perfect, in fact. Before I could even grab my bag, she had already made it half way down the aisle. I noticed that, as she passed Arnold, she ignored his attempt at starting a conversation and quickly climbed off the bus. My heart broke at Arnold's crestfallen look, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from Gerald.

Shaking my head of the occurrence, I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and began making my way down the aisle. Then, out of nowhere, someone's bag hit me square in the face, clocking me straight in the nose. Letting out a yelp, I clutched my throbbing nose (honestly, how could one go through so much pain in one morning? See, this exemplary for why I hate Mondays so damn much).

"Oh, gosh – I'm sorry!"

I froze, recognising that beautifully luscious voice ringing through my ears, as a big hand clasped my shoulder. I didn't have to look up to pin that voice to a particular face.

My eyes locked with his – bright green and monotonous brown. My hoodie had fallen from the hit and his eyes widened in surprise, realising that it was me, Helga G. Pataki, that he had hit. By his side, Gerald seized up in alarm, realising my identity, and watched with a pair of bugged eyes and fallen jaw.

_We're standing so close . . ._

Sparks flew from his touch as my knees began buckling under my weight. It had been so long since I'd been this close to him, so excuse my blatant staring.

Arnold had certainly grown taller since elementary – I barely reached his chin and had to physically strain my neck to admire his chiseled features. His brow was strong, his nose arrow straight and jaw angular. His hair flopped over his forehead and hung above his eyes. I had an impulsive urge to brush it away, but thankfully my common sense restrained my inner nine-year-old.

I stiffened under his grasp, uncomfortable with this situation. Narrowing my eyes, I forced myself to frown despite my heart squirming with giddiness at finally having his attention.

No, I couldn't keep doing this, not anymore.

_It hurt too much._

I slapped away his hand from my shoulder. Eyes widening, he looked at me with an almost offended look, stepping away from me with raised hands. It felt like a shard had pierced my gut, as he looked at me like I was some untamed animal about to attack him. Gritting my teeth, I made sure to hide the hurt travelling in my veins, never allowing it to show through my skin. "Watch where you're swinging that thing, Football Head!" I barked, sharply elbowing past him. A thrill hit me after using that nickname after seven years, but I ignored it.

My fists swung by my side as I stalked down the aisle. Honestly, I must've looked angry, because Pete actually gulped in fear as I passed him.

I could feel two pairs of stares burning holes into my back, so I quickened my pace for the building. I clutched the straps of my bag as I marched for my locker, trying to keep the frantic pounding of my heart and swarming butterflies in my stomach to a minimum.

I gripped so tightly onto my straps that my knuckles began to cramp, turning a nasty pale. Head hung low, I could feel tears prickling my eyes. Quickly pulling my hoodie back over my face, I blinked back the tears. Pressing my forehead against the metal of my locker, I closed my eyes and ignored the buzzing chatter, instead focusing on breathing through my nose and out my mouth. My heart throbbed painfully as images of Arnold's lovesick looks direction at Lila ran through my mind. I tried to shake them from my conscience, but I couldn't succeed. I could only think of how much Arnold loved Lila, whilst remaining completely apathetic to me.

_Well, who's fault is that?_

I hated to admit it, but the voice was right. It's not like it was either Arnold or Lila's fault. It was painfully obvious that Arnold never held any feeling for me – I'm not even sure if he had any  _platonic_  ones, let alone anything romantic – before I had given up on all contact with him. Given how cruel I used to be to him when we were kids, I never stood a chance against someone as beautiful as Lila.

A hand suddenly slammed inches from my face and I jumped in surprise. My hands flew to my heart as I spun around and met the smiling face of my best friend – Phoebe.

"Pheebs!" I gasped. I could feel my poor heart racing at an agonizing rate, doing multiple somersaults in my chest. " _Don't_ do that!"

Phoebe simply grinned mischievously at me, not looking the slightest bit regretful. "Sorry," she 'apologized', tilting her head. "But I couldn't resist – it was too tempting!"

I glared down at her. I swear, Phoebe was the only person I knew shorter then Ms. Perfect – she didn't even reach 5'! Honestly, you'd have a tough time believing her martial arts background, given how fine-boned she was.

I stuck my tongue out at her and wordlessly turned back to my locker, yanking it open and snatching my needed books. Ugh, I had two periods of Biology – lord, kill me.

Phoebe leaned against the neighboring locker, trying to catch my attention with that annoying shit-eating grin of hers. Ugh, why was everyone so  _cheerful_ today? She opened her mouth, probably to ask how my weekend was, when a sharp, high-pitched squeal pierced the air, halting all conversations. All eyes zipped in the direction of the squeal, which, I realised with irritation, had come from the cheerleader's corner. Or, more specifically,  _Rhonda Lloyd._

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. The girl in question bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, shaking her hands as if she were having an exorcism. It became apparent that her squeals weren't of horror as she threw her arms around the neck of some (admittedly, good-looking) guy. My fine and deductive skills tell me that the girl just got herself a date for the prom. The boy squirmed uncomfortably under the amount of attention Rhonda was earning and awkwardly patted her shoulders.

"Ugh," I closed my locker and bumped my hip against Phoebe's, winking when she gave me a curious look. "Cheerleaders, right?"

She giggled, nodding. "It's about time Jeremy asked her," she smirked, rubbing together her hands. "I was worried for a moment."

I quirked a brow. "Um,  _why?"_

The smile she sent me looked downright  _evil_. "I had a bet going with Leslie," she explained, looking remarkably similar to a scheming super-villain. "If he hadn't asked by the end of the month, I would have to pay – now I'm twenty dollars richer."

I snorted. Leslie was one of the members of Phoebe's after-school geek sessions. Honestly, I couldn't remember which one anymore. If you asked me, Phoebe was signed up for to many clubs. But, hey, what did  _I_  know?

The familiar buzz of the school bell rung through the hall, signalling the end of our socialising.

I groaned. "I've got double Bio."

Phoebe sent mean sympathetic look. I mean, she enjoyed the subject, but she also knew how much I didn't. "Good luck, H."

"Thanks – you too." I knew she had double Religious studies, which she hated more than the other multitude of classes she had.

We bid our goodbyes then split, each going to our separate classes.

Groaning, I prayed the rest of the day would turn out better.

* * *

No.

No, it did not get better.

At. All.

Turns out, my next class was actually  _Algebra,_  not Biology. I didn't even have Biology until  _Wednesday._  How the hell did I mix up those two subjects?

Either way, I ended up barging into a class full of seniors, completely humiliating myself. Grumbling, I was forced to run to my actual class and got there a  _tad_ bit later. But my teacher, Mrs. Brown, was not the least bit pleased; she didn't bother listening to my explanation and proceeded to let myself (and the entire class, for that matter) know that she was not happy with my 'tardiness' in a long,  _long_ lecture. Mid lecture, I became aware that Arnold and Lila were sat together up at the back. Meeting Lila's sympathetic stare, I turned to glare down at the tips of my shoes, cursing my luck. Why couldn't he sit with  _Gerald_ , like he usually does? And why was Lila allowing him to sit with her when it was obvious she didn't return his romantic feelings?

Frowning, when Mrs. Brown finally finished her lecture, I settled myself into my usual seat next to the window.

Of course, given how much I hated Algebra, I completely ignored whatever it was Mrs. Brown was supposedly teaching us.

However, mid-way through the class, I became aware of a pair of eyes boring into my back. Chills ran up my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight. The stare felt like it was coming from not inside the class, but . . .  _outside._

My eyes widened.

Oh my gosh, did I have a  _stalker?_

My stomach lurched as my heart jumped in fear. Of course, another simply  _wonderful_  event to mark down on today's list – slept in, missed the bus, injured my ankle whilst running after said bus, had a staring contest with a purple-eyed cat, got hit in the face by Arnold, went to the wrong class, got my ass handed to me by Mrs. Brown and now currently was being stalked by a tall man, dressed in a trench coat with a collar to conceal his identity.

Clearly, today was not my day.

I kept my eyes trained on the blackboard as something cold gripped at my heart with a tight squeeze. I tried distracting myself by drumming my fingers along the desk, but curiosity was  _killing_ me so I, with a defeated sigh, slowly turned my head to look out the window. Thoroughly scanning the area for creepy-looking-suit-clad men, I came up blank. No one stood in the grounds of our school. It was obvious from it's abandoned state that everyone were in their classes, either teaching or pretending to learn.

Huh, that's odd . . . I could've sworn that–

A pair of eyes popped out of the leaves of one of the trees standing tall in the middle of the yard.

I jumped in surprise, a squeal accidentally escaping my mouth. Looking closely, I realised that those eyes belonged to that dumb cat from this morning. And, like earlier, it's tail swished sharply in the air as it's eyes remained glued to my form. Hell, I don't think it was  _blinking._

"Ms. Pataki," Mrs. Brown's voice brought me back to earth as the reality of the situation washed over me.

Oh, yeah, I was still in class.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from the window back to the class. I was met with numerous stares from the rest of the class. Unfortunately, one of them, I realised with horror, included Arnold's. Scanning the multiple looks belonging to people that appeared to be questioning my mental state, I felt my entire face glow beet red and forced myself to meet Mrs. Brown's stare.  _Boy,_ she did not look happy, in fact she looked downright furious.

So, I guess that apparently made me her target for the rest of the double period. She kept directing her questions specifically to me and I kept guessing them wrong –  _all_  of them. I scowled as Mrs. Brown lectured me for the  _fourth_ time and the rest of the class laughed at me expense. I'm ashamed to admit that  _Arnold_ was one of them.

_Now would be lovely time for the Earth to swallow me whole._

Throughout the lesson, I couldn't get the image of that cat's piercing stare out of my mind. And my paranoia didn't ease up either; I found myself regularly looking back out the window to see if it was still there, watching my every move. It wasn't – at some point, it must've gotten bored and left. I tried ignoring the nagging feeling in my stomach by actually paying attention to the lesson, but I couldn't shake my suspicions.

Mrs. Brown then announced that she wanted us to complete two pages of homework and for it to be handed in next Monday. I only  _just_ resisted the urge to smack my head to my desk.

When class  _finally_  ended, I bolted out of there. Arriving at my next class, Ancient History, I made sure to sit away from the window. Yeah, call me paranoid, but those stares from that cat were extremely creepy and oddly felt  _human-like._  It was bad enough that I had a strong distaste for cats, I didn't need one analysing or judging me. It almost felt like I was it's prey and it my predator. It unnerved me and I  _did not_ want to be watched by a cat with freakishly bright, purple eyes.  _How_  were that cat's eyes even purple, was that  _normal_? I think not.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, constantly throwing suspicious glances over my shoulder. Any time someone so much as sneezed, I would jump or even yelp, casting them a beady-eyed stare. Not that I was scared, of course. No, of course not – I just didn't fancy myself being stalked by some purple-eyed cat. Not how I envisioned my death, really. Personally, I always pictured my death being on the account of drowning . . . yes, I had already planned my death, problem? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal, but something always seemed almost poetic about it. Dying in one's sleep was awfully dull and cliched, but drowning on the other hand seemed dramatic. In the most bittersweet of ways, of course.

I mean, just picture it; water closing in around you, darkness enveloping you. Still, you would fight, for as long as you could. Holding your breath for as long as possible, you'd kick your legs, struggling to break for the sun-speckled surface, but eventually they'd tire. Heart hammering from the panic, you'd realise that no one was coming to your rescue, and let go of that tiring breath, cold water would fill your lungs as all illusions of survival swam away. Falling further, you'd let darkness embrace you, swallowing you whole, as you sent prayers to whoever was watching that they'd discover your body and pass it on to your loved on–

"Ms. Pataki! Pataki!" Mrs. Belmonte's hands clapped mere centimetres from my nose.

I jerked back, blinking wildly. "Wha-what?"

 _"Jesús, esta chica."_  She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Daydreaming again, Ms. Pataki?"

_Only about my death, miss._

Well, I couldn't exactly tell her that, could I? Not without being sent to counselling to discuss the suicidal thoughts I didn't possess. Hell, I couldn't even tell her why I had been so  _skittish_  this lesson, which I knew she did not appreciate in the slightest.

So, I settled for silence.

Silence was, after all, among some of the best of answers.

Apparently, Mrs. Belmonte didn't agree with me. Having enough of my 'disruptions', she kicked me out of class. I cursed Purple Eyes (my official nickname for that demon) as I marched out of the class, ignoring the snickers and slamming the door for good effect. In the end, I was forced to stand in the hallway for the rest of the class.

From then on, my day pretty much stayed downhill.

Lunch didn't hold any of the comfort I had hoped for – Phoebe didn't turn up.  _No_ ¸ she had another one of her geek meetings or whatever. So, I was left eating my lunch alone, looking over my shoulder for a pair of piercing eyes.

During French, Ms. Firmin announced we would be having a test on Monday, so we'd better begin our studies so we could, "learn, learn learn!" By the end of the lesson, I was seriously considering heaving myself out the window just to escape her disgustingly chipper voice.

And it was fairly safe to assume that Ms. Ainsley was having boyfriend troubles again, considering how brutal our lesson played out. For starters, we were all forced to do twenty sit ups, thirty push ups and run  _at least_ seven laps. And if she caught us stopping for more then three seconds, she'd make us begin again. Then, she decided to make us play a 'friendly' game of volleyball. 'Friendly' meaning  _intense_  –  _extremely_ intense. I counted at least  _three_ students being sent to the Nurse's office due to their injuries – and even  _then_  Ms. Ainsley had been reluctant to send them.

I had the unfortunate timing of being caught bending over to tie up my shoelace, so I was stuck singlehandedly packing up all the equipment. So, when the bell rung, as everyone was leaving to meet up with their friends and eat, I was stuck cleaning up Ms. Ainsley's bad mood. I gritted my teeth as Rhonda and her minions sent me snickers when they passed me, but barely restrained myself from smacking her.

By the time I had finished, my last class had begun. Thankfully, it was English, my favourite lesson and only class I actually tried in. Not only that, but we were receiving our assignments back today and I was more then excited to see mine. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but my assignment was pretty damn good. It was a story of a passionate love shared between two teenagers, separated by their different social statuses in high school. The boy, Aaron, was popular, well-liked by everyone and a total blonde  _babe_. Heidi, the girl, was the unpopular but beautiful nerd – shy, insecure and a mystery to her classmates.

One day, Heidi decided to confess her love for Aaron, how she yearned for him to touch her, kiss her –  _love her_. Out of desperation to appear cool in front of his friends, Aaron pretended her feelings were unrequited and humiliated her by proclaiming he'd never go for a nerd such as her. Heartbroken, Heidi left in tears and Aaron watched her go, guilt stricken.

Eventually, Heidi, no longer possessing the will to live with such a pure, powerful love going unrequited, and decided to throw herself off the city bridge. However, Aaron, with his remarkable timing, showed up before she could bring herself to do it and confessed that he to loved her. The couple embraced in the sunset, sharing their first true love's kiss.

_Sigh._

With themes mature as this and writing as brilliant as mine, there was no  _way_  I wasn't getting full marks.

I could barely contain myself as I sat in my usual seat at the front when a feminine giggle caught my attention. My eyes were drawn to the doorway, where both Arnold and Lila stood, heading for their seats at the back of the class. It felt as if someone had punched me in the gut when Arnold's cheeks lit up with a rosy glow at Lila laughing at something he had said.

I forced my gaze onto my folded hands on my desk, blocking out their voices. It felt as if someone had struck me. Why were they even spending so much time together? The veins in my shaking hands began to pop as questions began running through my torn mind. Where was Gerald when you actually needed him, wasn't  _he_  Arnold's best friend? What's with Arnold spending so much time with Ms. Perfect?

"–so, I just can't decide which colour to go with," a femininely low voice from the front rumbled. Looking up, I realised it belonged to Rhonda, who was perched on her desk, looking through some dumb magazine while her friends, or minions, scrolled through their phones, pretending to listen. "I mean,  _red_  is my signature colour, and it's absolutely flattering on me, but it's also kinda typical, y'know? For me, I mean. Like, I'm  _always_  wearing it. I wanna  _pop_ , y'know, and stand out from my regular days, and–"

I rolled my eyes. Criminy, even her  _minions_  looked bored out of their minds! Of  _course_  Rhonda was discussing dress colours for an event that was almost half a year away. Makes sense, she already had her date, might as well get her dress now.

When Ms. Hartman finally showed up, I sat up straight in my seat, eyeing the multiple binders in her arms. Dumping them on her desk, Ms. Hartman placed both hands on her hips and beamed at us. "Hello, students! So, I  _finally_ marked your papers," she announced, looking like she could just burst with joy. "So, guess what you're getting back today?"

She was met with a chorus of groans as everyone slumped back into their seats. Some even attempted to hide behind their textbooks or oversized jackets. I snorted, yeah,  _that_  was gonna work.

I had a hard time containing my excitement as Ms. Hartman handed us our papers back. When she reached me, I tried searching for that proud grin she always gave me whenever I aced an assignment. But she avoided my gaze, lips pressed in a hard line, and my heart gave a lurch.

Passing me, my eyes zipped to the mark on my paper and I almost let out a cry of horror. A 9/20 was circled in red ink on the corner of my paper.

My jaw dropped.  _H-How?_

People either groaned or cheered when receiving their papers, turning to their friends and trading their scores. I was left sitting in my seat, eyes glued to my absolutely  _pathetic_  excuse for a score. Did this count as a  _fail?_

When Ms. Hartman finished handing out the papers, she stood at the front of the room and cleared her throat, grabbing back our attention. "So, if you have any questions concerning  _why_  you got your score–" her eyes flickered to mine for a brief second "–just see me after class and we can discuss it."

Oh, believe me, honey, we had  _plenty_ to discuss.

I knew I would be the only one to stay behind. The people who failed clearly didn't care for English and those who actually received decent marks were already satisfied. So, waiting for the final bell to ring was absolute torture. I had to sit calmly in my seat as we analysed the themes explored in  _Othello_. The entire time, my gaze remained glued to Ms. Hartman, who got so uncomfortable that she began pacing up and down the room to escape my heated glare.

Oh yeah, she  _knew_  she had to deal with me.

When the bell rang, and the students made a bolt for the door, I calmly stood up from my desk, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and stalked to Ms. Hartman's desk. Upon hearing my footsteps, Ms. Hartman turned with a defeated sigh.

I rose a brow, crossing my arms across my chest, and wordlessly demanded her  _why_ , or rather,  _how_ I could have failed.

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of her right eye as her shoulders sagged. "Look, Helga, your creative writing – it's not  _terribly_  written or anything, it's just that," she struggled to find the right word, " . . . it's kinda, well, y'know? It's . . .  _dull_. Ah, yes! It's quite dull and, honestly? A little worrying."

My eyes narrowed to slits. " _What?"_

"Well, Helga," clearing her throat, Ms. Hartman's mouth formed a rigid grimace as she prepared herself for the storm, "I'm not sure if you're aware, but whenever I assign the class writing assignment, you always base your topics around romance," she explained, gently sitting on the edge of the desk. "Which I get – you're a hopeless romantic, right? There's no shame in that – hey, I consider myself to be one to. So, naturally, you can't help escaping to your fantasies in your writing, right?"

Forgive me, but I fail to see how my perception of love has anything to do with this.

"Is there," I began snappily, "anything  _wrong_ with that?"

"No, of course not," Ms. Hartman shook her head, the corners of her mouth tilting down. " _However_ , given how much of yourself you, erm, project into your writing, the fact that you wrote of a girl who decided to kill herself because some guy didn't return her feelings worries me."

I didn't say anything, but could sense where this was going.

Clearing her throat, Ms. Hartman continued. "I know, I know – I'm your teacher and I have no right to barge into my student's personal problems – but I'm considered that you portrayed this girl's–  _Heidi's_  act of dependence as true love. You were really descriptive when you wrote of the heartbreak – you knew how to properly write this girl's thoughts, even her suicidal ones, and I was wondering if you're–"

I held up my hand to interrupt her. "Look, Ms. Hartman, I'm not about to go throw myself off a bridge just because some guy doesn't like me . . . n-not that I like anyone, of course! No, that was hypothetically. Yeah, strictly hypothetical. So,  _hypothetically_ I wouldn't, I mean." Ms. Hartman's flat look of disbelief unnerved me so I quickly changed the subject. "But  _why_  does this result in me failing?"

Ms. Hartman shot me a questioning look. "Failing? Helga, you didn't  _fail_ , per se." At my unimpressed look, she cleared her throat and proceeded. "But, anyway, as I've mentioned – yes, your story is kinda dull. It doesn't stand out from your other ones – they're  _all_  about passionate romances and nothing outside of that. Your characters are very two dimensional and don't seem to possess personalities outside their 'undying' love. I think the moral is quite unhealthy, and honestly? It wasn't your best written work."

_Wow, well, don't hold back there._

"So, bottom line was it sucked," I bluntly accused, glaring down at my shoes.

"Oh,  _no_ , no, no – it doesn't  _suck_. It's just a little . . . boring," Ms. Hartman cringed at her choice of word, but forced a small smile. "Listen, I know how much you care about your writing, so I'll give you some tips – the next writing assignment is in a few weeks. You remember, don't you? Rewrite a classic literature, or fairy tale, from a different, modern perspective? You're going to have to write this with a partner, so why not open yourself up to something  _other_ than romance?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like what?"

"Oh, Helga, honey, there's thousands –  _millions_  of themes you can explore! The concept of good and evil, discrimination's, what it means to be a part of a family, how friendships can benefit one another – the possibilities are endless!"

"But how can I write about something I don't know?"

Ms. Hartman's smile was warm and encouraging. "Research, honey," she answered happily. "Keep up to date with the news, read articles, other books, ask people, do a google search – research is  _fundamental_  for a writer to craft their works . . . you're an intelligent kid, Helga. I don't know why you don't try in your other classes, but you're very bright. I  _know_  that not only can you get a better score for this next assignment, but potentially one of the highest in the grade. You've just gotta break away from this slump you're in and truly explore things for yourself –  _live_ for yourself, not this hypothetical boy. Be willing to explore and put yourself out there, dear."

* * *

The bus ride home was a blur.

I sat up at the back by myself, hoodie drawn up and earbuds popped in. My heart shook uneasily as I found my gaze returning to Arnold and Lila at the front, both chatting animatedly, oblivious to the world. Head buzzing, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that perhaps they  _would've_ made a great couple – perhaps even Hillwood's golden couple. They were, after all, both remarkably good-looking, kind-hearted and popular. It only made sense that they would eventually fall for one another. Arnold most certainly thought so, as when Lila got off at her stop, he immediately turned to Gerald and began excitedly prattling on about how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to reflect on Ms. Hartman's words.

"  _. . . you're an intelligent kid, Helga."_

I couldn't remember the last time someone had actually believed me to be smart. It'd been even longer since someone had outright told me. No one, not even I, Helga G. Pataki, believed that I was, in any sense of the word,  _smart_. English aside, I didn't bother trying in any of my classes. Why should I? I could come home with grades like Phoebe's but it  _still_  wouldn't compare to Bob's precious Olga.

" _. . . live for yourself, not this hypothetical boy."_

My eyes flew to the back of Arnold's head as he continued to babble on about Lila's hair to Gerald, who was faintly nodding but slipping into a bored sleep. I knew I had to get over Arnold, but it was so hard. Because, when you got down to it, Arnold was fundamentally a good person. I'd never met someone with a heart as pure as his. As a pinnacle of all that was right, that made it considerably hard to hate him. If he was someone like Gerald – you know, a prick – then,  _yeah,_  it'd be easy as pie. But, Arnold's kind nature and simplistic outlook on life made it practically impossible to hate him. And if I couldn't force myself to hate him . . . how could I stop loving him?

Arnold's and my stop was shortly approaching so I watched as he bid Gerald a goodbye with an easy-going grin. Shaking my head, I dragged my feet down the aisle (sending Pete a dirty look as I passed him) and avoided looking in Arnold's direction as we both stepped off the bus.

A few seconds of silence passed between us and I quickly looked down at my shoes, stomach in knots. My pulse pounded at my temples, so I bit on my cheek to ease the shakiness of my legs. Criminy, I was acting ridiculous – it's not like he had even  _spoken_  to me to get me to act like this.

. . .  _I wish he would speak to me, though._

Hearing his footsteps descend, I looked up to see him already walking up the steps to his home, not sparing me so much as a glance. Clenching my jaw, I turned in the direction of my own home and began to storm off.

"Helga," his voice cut through me like knives, but sounded so sweet to my ears. I stopped dead in my tracks, butterflies in my stomach, but didn't turn. He cleared his throat, sounding nervous. "I'm, uhh, sorry about, y'know . . .  _hitting_ you earlier."

The temptation became too strong and I looked over my shoulder, seeking out and meeting his eyes–

_Uncomfortable._

–that's how he appeared. His smile seemed forced and he nervously threaded his fingers through his hair. Awkwardly shifting the weight between his feet, his unsettled eyes met mine for a short second before sinking to his feet.

The silence between us was thick and stretched on long enough to unsettle me.

He looked so uncomfortable – because of me. Suddenly, I was reminded of the last time we'd actually spoke, how uncomfortable he'd been. Of course, Arnold could talk to anyone, bring down anyone's shields with just a smile, but when it came to me, the entire situation left him itching to turn away. But, as previously mentioned, he was simply too good a person to go without apologising for something so minor like accidentally hitting someone with his bag. Even if that person happened to be me, someone who had mercilessly bullied him in his younger years.

Waves of pain suddenly hit me all at one and nausea swirled in my stomach. The raw pain, the feeling of my heart breaking, suddenly was relieved as I began to remember-

_Golden rays pierced the burnt sky, light scattered, as the bird chirped an explicit background melody. How I wished I could grow my own feathers, sprout my own wings, so I could escape this uncomfortable scene. Breath paused in my lungs as I forced myself to meet his unsettled eyes, heart quivering like a quake._

_The way he looked at me now was different from all the other times._

_Eyebrows furrowed, he opened his mouth, "You l–?"_

– _no_ , no, no. I  _wasn't_ going to remember.  _This_  was why I insisted on dropping all my contact with Arnold – it was simply too painful to keep talking to him when it was obvious how uncomfortable I made him, and not in a good way.

Swallowing my pain, I simply looked away and began walking home, not sparing him another glance. My music blasted so loud that my ears began throbbing, but I didn't care. I  _needed_ to get away from him. My heart felt like it had been sliced open, my stomach punched repeatedly and my throat clasped tightly by a big, meaty hand.

_No . . ._

I had blocked out these memories for a reason.

_It's been years . . ._

Ms. Hartman was right, I needed to get over him. It wasn't healthy and, she was right, that simplistic yet disgustingly obsessive story I had written was scary. I mean, I wasn't about to throw myself off a bridge, but it's not like it didn't hurt.

"I'm home."

I shut the door behind me and took out my earphones. My monotonous voice fell on death's ears as the only person here was still passed out on the couch.

I rolled my eyes.

For a moment, I thought that she hadn't bothered waking up at all when I noticed the different change of clothing. Looking at the half-empty cup still clutched in her hand, I snorted in disgust and stalked up the stairs. I had no patience for this right now.

Slamming my door shut, I dumped my bag to my feet and flipped off my shoes. Making my way across the room, faintly aware of the moisture blurring my vision, I threw myself onto my bed. I dug my nails into my pillows and buried my head in the blankets, allowing the moisture to seep through.

When had my life become so pathetic?

My family, if you could even call them that, barely noticed my existence, my teachers had no faith in my abilities, Phoebe rarely spent time with me and Arnold was in love with the most perfect specimen on the face of the earth! Not only that, but I'm pretty sure he found me just as intolerable as everyone else did.

I wish I could shed my skin and become someone else.

The hairs stood straight on the back of my neck as an uneasiness curled in my stomach. I felt as if two holes were burning into my back and, as I looked up, my eyes settled on the window. Or rather, the black cat with bright, unblinking purple eyes perched outside, calmly watching me.

A muffled yelp escaped my lips as I leapt up from my stomach, backpedalling until my back hit the wall. The cats eyes remained trained on my panicking form, looking less then impressed. "D-Did you follow me?" I demanded, clutching my frantic heart.

The cat simply flicked it's tail in response.

Suddenly, I was hit with a powerful desire to let Purple Eyes into my room.

My eyes widened.  _What the fu–_

There was a prickling sensation gnawing at my scalp, and I grimaced. Without my permission, my body stood up from my bed and crossed the room on it's own accord. I held my breath as I crouched in front of the window and electrical surges moved my arms to slide it open.

I swear the cat nodded before leaping inside. The moment my fingers closed the window, I finally regained control and practically leapt across the room, away from Purple Eyes, in shock.

_What type of satanic voo-doo Darth Vader shit was that?!_

Crouched on the balls of my feet in front of my shut door, I stared down at my shaking, pale fingers as I questioned what on  _earth_ possessed me to do something so dumb.

_Did it infect me with something?_

Bouncing uneasily on the balls of my feet, I found that an infection was the only legit reasoning to why I had suddenly lost control of my body.

Criminy, now I was stuck with a diseased cat in my room, which would no doubt permanently leave me with an infection that would certainly leave me with no control of my body ever again, then I'd die because I couldn't get my hands on something to eat, then I'd come back to life because this illness was obviously of supernatural origin, but I'd be so hungry that I would start eating other people, then my life would be ruined because that would make me a murderer and the cops would be after me, then Arnold would no doubt hear about my freak-ass and gather a bunch of his friends and pitchforks to hunt me down and I'd try to run away, but because that cat is almost certainly satanic, it'd zap me with something demonic and have me under its control again, then force me to do the chicken dance in front of Arnold, then my life would be ruined again, then–

Purple Eyes pounced onto my bed, surveying the mess that is me. Squealing, I lost balance and fell to my butt, but kept my frightened eyes on the black body sitting in front of me.

"W-What did y-you do to me?" I shrieked, my eyes wildly searching the black feline perched atop of my messy bed. "That wasn't me! You did something, didn't you?! A-And you've been following me all day – unless you're not that same cat, then I'd feel pretty dumb. Wait! No, no! There's no way some other cat with purple eyes has been following me all day! No, it was definitely you! What the fuck did you do to me, Purple Eyes? It wasn't permanent, was it? I don't wanna do the chicken dance in front of my beloved! And why do you even have purple eyes, anyway–"

"Are you quite done?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

D-Did that voice come from . . . ?

I looked around my room, searching for the body of another human being. Someone must've been in my room – yeah, that's right. I mean, I hadn't left my window open or anything, but if purple-eyed cats could become stalkers, a man who could walk through walls wasn't  _that_ far-fetched. Coming up empty, I decided to look a little more thoroughly. Getting on my hands and knees, I peered underneath my bed, in search for any signs of silhouetted bodies or beady yellow eyes.

Again, I came up blank.

I eyeballed the closed door to my closet.

_Perhaps–_

"What on earth are you doing?"

My jaw dropped.

No way.

_No way._

There was no way in hell that an oddly British-sounding voice had just come from the mouth of a purple-eyed black cat.

"D-Did," I demanded, eyes wide, "you just . . .  _talk?"_

Purple Eyes looked oddly offended at my surprise. It stuck up its nose in the air and . . . was it  _frowning?_  "Well, of course, I can talk! Really, you humans are such daft creatur– what are you doing?! Unhand me this instant!"

I picked up Purple Eyes, ignoring how she squirmed in my hands, and searched her fur for some type of battery compartment or glowing light or a selection of buttons – I dunno,  _anything_ to prove that she was a robot. Obviously, it was some type of Japanese robot, fashioned to look as realistic as possibly. "Where're the batteries?" I mumbled to myself as I inspected her triangular ears.

Purple Eyes apparently had enough and clawed at my intruding hands. Hissing in pain, I drew my hands to my chest to nurse the sharp stinging as the cat leapt from my arms back to my bed. "Why, I have never been handled like that and I refuse to let it start now!" The cat's tail began flicking wildly as it leveled a glare at me.

I slowly sunk to my knees, trying to grasp that I was being lectured in my bedroom by an apparent British cat. "Y-You talk . . ."

The cat snorted – it  _snorted!_  – but cleared her throat, nodding. "Well, yes, I guess I can understand the bewilderment you must be feeling. After all, I've become aware that cats on your planet don't seem to possess the ability to communicate verbally with one another. Pity, really."

My  _planet?_

"Anyway, I believe that formal introductions are required," the cat's voice lightened in an attempt to sound friendly. "My name is Nel and I have been sent to seek out four potential Guardians that must defend their planet – Earth, in this case – against enemy forces. This morning, I sensed quite a bit of potential from you, which is why I have followed you. I apologise if I startled you, but I needed to be sure that you really were one of the four. Now, I, without a doubt, believe that– excuse me, where are you going?"

Looking up from the door handled grasped in my pale, shaking hands, I met the cat's angry eyes. Purple Eye's– I mean, Nel's eyes narrowed at me and she sprung to her fours. Dazed, I lightly tapped my temple with my finger. "Obviously today has gotten to me worse then I thought," I admitted, more to myself then Nel. "I'm going for a walk to clear my head."

Nel sighed, sitting back down. "I can see you are having a hard time believing anything I'm telling you." Oh, believe me, sister, I'm having a hard time believing much more then what you're telling me. "For this I do not blame you. Instead, I shall prove to you that what I speak of is truth."

Nel began drawing random symbols in the air with her paw. I found myself sinking back to the ground, my back sliding the door as I watched her in silence. There was a bright flash and I shielded my eyes from it's harmful blaze. Slowly, I opened my eyes when the light faded–

_What the fuck?_

–in the place of the light was a golden pin, floating in mid-air.

Before I could blink, the pin zoomed in my direction, flying towards me. I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever impact it would have. On it's own accord, my arm shot out just in time for something small to fly into my palm. Immediately, upon grasping the foreign object, I released a soft gasp as it felt as if a door had been opened deep in my mind, inviting foreign sensations to travel through my veins. There's a loud buzzing in my head as colourful spots flashed in front of my mind. For a moment, all I could hear were voices, numerous voices – whispering, singing, babbling, yelling in my ears. Suddenly, a sharp prick struck at the inside of my skull as the voices increased their volume. I couldn't understand their words, but they each sounded strangely melodic, they were all sweet but venomous.

Threading my hands through my hair and holding my hands over my ears, I begged for them to  _please_  stop.

The pounding in my temples only intensified and I bit my bottom lip – hard. Where were these voices coming from? What were they saying?

Then, the voices slowed to a stop and I was left listening to my ragged breaths.

 _What the fuck was_ that?

Looking at my hand, I found the golden pin. Shivers ran down my spine as I examined the warm metal in my hand. It was of a bird, spreading it's wings in flight, with a golden halo wrapped around it's body. I blinked, there was a tingling at my palms, that didn't quite hurt but also wasn't comfortable.

I jumped.

The pin . . . it was  _pulsing._

"This is your personal transformative device – it allows you to unlock your true potential as a Guardian," Nel's words were lost on me as I stared at her in confusion. What the hell was going on? Sensing my puzzlement, Nel broke off mid-way through her explanation and sighed. "Right. Okay, how about this? Place the pin on your shirt and repeat after me:  _My Inner Guardian: Unite._ " At the skeptic look I gave her, Nel added, "Just do it!"

Wow, touchy much?

Still, what did I have to lose? Clearly, this was some crazy dream or delusion I had created to escape the sad dwellings of my realities. Who was it gonna hurt if I played along?

I cleared my throat, standing straight, and stuck my nose in the air, ignoring the sigh Nel gave. Pinning the bird to my shirt and stretching my hand above my head, I shouted,  _"My Inner Guardian: Unite!"_

A warm– no,  _burning_  sensation surged through my veins as a beam of light shot from the pin and wrapped me up in an embrace. My vision was overtaken by a blinding white as I felt myself lift from the ground. Closing my eyes, I hung freely in the air, my heart fluttering and stomach flying with glee at the overwhelming warmth that swept through me. I became faintly aware of my hair growing in length, my clothes shrinking and something clasping along my feet and legs.

The warmth suddenly disappeared with a flash and my feet were gently placed back to the ground. Nel's flabbergasted expression was the first sight that greeted me.

I quirked a brow.

I felt strange.

No, not strange –  _great!_  I felt amazing. My brain was racing and my body felt strong – so unbelievably strong. Everything looked so –  _clear!_  So defined and detailed. Without even looking out the window, I could feel (I swear to god, _feel_ ) the air dampening and the clouds rolling in. Despite the brightly shining sun this morning, I could smell the humidity in the air and see the changing in light. Not only that, but I could hear things as well – Miriam's snoring from downstairs as she shifted around to find a more comfortable position. As she moved, the drink swished over the edges of her glass and splashed to the ground. I grimaced, Bob was not going to be happy when he came back–

Wait a minute.

Did I just  _hear_  Miriam spill her drink from downstairs?

I looked down at my hands and felt my eyes widen. Before my hands had been average-sized and callous with ugly, bitten nails, now my hands were larger in size, with baby-smooth flesh and perfectly shaped, French-tipped nails. Along my wrists were glowing white arm braces that reached my forearms.

I leapt to my mirror and momentarily marvelled as how  _quickly_ I got there – I mean, it was like there was no movement. It was just like I had thought of going to the mirror and barely a second had passed before I found myself staring at an unknown face in it's reflection.

My jaw dropped and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

The girl in the mirror – she was an  _ethereal_  beauty. Rendered speechless, I examined the creature staring back at me. Her hair was a platinum blonde and pulled from her face; two sections of her hair on the side of her head were wounded back into braids that joined across the top of her head like a band. The rest flowed gently down her back in soft curls, reminiscent of silvery curtains. She was tall – I'd say about 5'10" – and impressively proportioned. She had a small waist, flat stomach, toned and shapely legs, and– holy fuck,  _boobs._

The girl wore a white leotard with a hoodie hanging from the shoulder blades. Matching braces adorned her arms, along with a pair of knee-high boots. In the place of the pin lay an enlarged version of the golden bird taking flight. Looking directly at the girl's face, I found her identity was completely concealed – also in the shape of a bird spreading it's wings was a white mask plastered over her eyes and nose.

That girl was most certainly  _not_ me.

I mean, yeah, she had blonde hair (kinda. I mean, mine was more a dirty-blonde while hers was . . .  _not_ ), but c'mon, since when do I have boobs? Mine had remained the same since I was twelve, I swear. And do not get me started on my lack of curves –  _this_ girl, on the other hand, not only had a curvy body, but was physically older. I couldn't tell her exact age, but she was definitely not sixteen – she was at least an adult; roughly in her early twenties.

I spun around to face Nel and stopped to take in how  _quickly_ that had happened. Okay,  _that_ was going to take some getting used to. Anyway, planting my hands on my hips, I shot her an accusatory look. Nel quickly shook off any remaining shock and narrowed her eyes.

"W-What happened to me?!" I demanded, then froze, dumbfounded at the voice that had come from my mouth. This voice was deeper then mine, a low but warm rumble, rich in tone. Nothing like  _my_ sound. "W-What the hell? What happened to my voice?! Wha-what the hell did you do?!"

"I told you," Nel replied with a cluck of her tongue. "You're a Guardian. You were born with some untapped potential – a power if you will. The voice is so no one can identify you whenever you speak."

"Wait, what?  _I_  have powers?" For emphasis, I pointed a finger to myself.

"Yes."

"No way!" A gigantic grin spread across my face. "What, what! Is it laser vision? Flying? Shooting fireballs from my fists? Moving things with my mind? How about–?"

"I'm not quite sure yet," Nel interrupted, frowning. "However, as soon as that pin meshes with your DNA, you are granted physical capabilities greater than average humans."

"Physical capabilities?" I parroted, tilting my head in confusion.

"Yes," Nel nodded. "You should find your strength is boosted, your healing factor heightened, your speed–"

A sharp screech tore through me like a shard of glass, piercing the air sharply. In sync, Nel and I both jumped. Bowing my head, I covered my ears with shaky hands in an attempt to block out the sound, but it did nothing. Nel grimaced, drawing back her ears harshly, but otherwise did nothing to block out the awful, grating noise. Neck hairs upright, my skin crawled as my heart thudded in my ears.

"W-What the hell was that?" I demanded, turning to Nel, still cupping my ears.

Nel leapt from her spot on my bed, padding across the room and peered outside the window. "An attack," she answered solemnly.

My heart jumped in my throat. "What?"

Nel turned back to me, looking deadly serious. "You remember what I said about enemy forces?"

My eyes flew from Nel to the window as I found my legs pulling me towards it. The sky, as I earlier had noticed, had darkened; dense clouds had wrapped the sun in their embrace as bitter winds whipped ferociously at Hillwood. Sheets of rain fell from thick blankets of clouds, battering down on roofs like hails of bullets.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Nel attempted to open the window. I wrapped a hand around her torso, pulling her from the glass and sliding it back down. "What're you doing?!" I demanded.

"Listen, Helga!" She yelled angrily, scaring me with her force. "That scream means that, somewhere, there is an enemy attack a civilian. It's your job as a Guardian to protect your people!"

"What?" My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

I grimaced at her choice of wording, but covered it with a dismissive snort. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it was only five minutes ago that I witnessed a talking cat – now all of a sudden I'm some type of superhero? Forgive me if I'm not jumping for joy."

Nel frowned, but released a calming breath. Her frown softened when she looked back at me, rich with understanding. "I understand, then. I know it is asking a lot to suddenly be told you're one of the sole protectors of this Earth and have to be the one to defend it from enemy forces, but, believe me, if I had another option, I would take it. It  _pains_ me to force such a responsibility onto a young girl, but there're no other options. So, I beg of you,  _please_  help defend your world – your home – from the dangers that await it."

_No._

I wanted to reject her – to reject  _this._  I know I had wanted to become someone else, but c _riminy,_  I  _did not_ mean  _this!_

I opened my mouth with the intent of declining the possibility of becoming a Guardian, when another sharp shriek cut the air. We winced, covering our ears despite it proving to be pointless.

"If you don't save everything," Nel bit out, above the high-pitched squeal. I looked up from the tips of my boots and stared into her hardened purple eyes. "Then everyone you know, anyone you could possibly love –  _everything on this planet_ – will be destroyed. If not today, tomorrow; if not tomorrow, the next day; if not then, next week. Personally, I give it a little under a month."

_Destroyed._

My fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. Sweat began to drench my skin as, for a second, a familiar, blonde-haired man flashed before my eyes. My stomach began to knot itself into tight cramps and I quickly shook my head of his charming smiles and caring words. No,  _he_ had nothing to do with this, damn it! Heart hammering, I thought of Phoebe, her dark eyes bubbling with amusement as she yet again managed to scare the living daylights out of me. Despite the situation, a small smile touched my mouth – Phoebe, the only one to stick by me throughout these merciless years. We hardly got to see one another anymore, but I still loved her as much as I did as a child. She was my best friend, and I wasn't about to let her – or  _anyone_ die at the mercy of some Scooby-Doo freak.

I touched my mask, my fingers gliding along the smooth metal as I regarded the situation. For whatever reason, I was given the task to protect this place, my planet, from certain death. It was me that the pin had chosen as a Guardian to fight for those that I loved.

Wordlessly, I turned my back to Nel and slid the window open. Releasing a slow, calming breath, I looked back at the cat. "Criminy. Let's . . . get this over with then, yeah?"

* * *

Living in a third storey house, I was surprised when we had leapt from my window. I mean, my room was on that  _third_  level, so jumping from that window, I realised mid-jump, should've shattered my legs, especially considering the heeled boots I wore. But I didn't so much as roll an ankle when I landed gracefully on the balls of my feet. Not only had my landed been graceful, but remained quiet.

I didn't get much time to marvel upon this discover as Nel was quick to shoot off like a dart in the direction of the screams. I followed her, but stumbled upon seeing the world with my new eyes. I could spy every rain drop before it splattered to the ground, I could smell different scents as we whizzed by multiple houses – vanilla, chicken, baked potatoes, chocolate, numerous scents.

I was tempted to stop when we passed Arnold's house. Even from outside I could hear the buzzing of multiple voices, but I couldn't detect his under so many. Nel's glare brought me back to earth and I gave her an embarrassed grin before we both took off again. A minute barely passed when I found myself hiding behind a building, observing a completely deserted park.

Well,  _almost_ deserted.

Gripping the edge of the building's wall, both Nel and I leaned around to scan the situation (situation – good word, Helga). The monster had it's long, meaty wrapped around the neck of a young man. I narrowed my eyes in alarm at the yellow, misty cloud of smoke bathing the man's face. At first, the man struggled – he kicked, screamed and clawed at the hideous hand – but his movements weakened as the monster drew more and more smoke in through it's vile mouth.

I gulped, taking in the monster's form. Legs like the trunks of oak trees, it towered clean over the man, it's protruding eyes glowing with delight as it's nails dug into the man's neck. Heart throbbing, my stomach squirmed as my eyes traced it's deformed state and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me.

Yeah, no thanks, I  _so_  did not sign up to get viciously murdered tonight, thank you.

"Helga!" Nel hissed, glaring at me as a bright beam of light shot out from the screen clutched tightly in my hands, hitting me square in the face.

I turned to her, confused. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

I scowled at her bewildered look. "Um, what do you think I'm doing?" Because, really, wasn't it obvious? "I'm obviously calling the police! Criminy!"

Because apparently one of the perks of having larger breasts was possessing enough room to store your phone in your bra.

There was a silence.

As in, a complete silence. Now, I wasn't a professional, but to me it seemed a little more then odd that there was such a pause in resonance activity, when not two seconds ago I could hear the struggling of a man being strangled by an evil-looking Groot alien.

In sync, Nel and I exchanged short, panicked looks, before our eyes darted in the direction that the monster stood. My breath got caught when I realised the monster's glowing eyes were settled on my quivering form.

The monster snarled, baring it's three rows of teeth, each sharp as a dagger, and narrowed it's bulbous eyes. Ripping it's bloody nails from the man's neck, it carelessly dropped the man to the ground in an entanglement of limbs and nonchalantly stepped over the unmoving body. Like a dart, the monster took off in my direction, shaking the ground with it's powerful steps.

I gulped.

Oh, hell no.

Nel's ears folded back as her stance stiffened, glaring at the monster. "Alright, Helga, now's your chance. As a Guardian, you should possess enough strength to– Helga?" Looking to her side, Nel realised that I no longer occupied that spot anymore, finding my abandoned phone at her feet. No, I already had begun running before the monster had even taking it's first steps.

I practically threw myself into the largest bushes I could find, determined to hide until he had gotten bored and left to go terrorize some other family. Oh, don't judge me for acting like this – you would be  _to_ if you were suddenly thrust into this situation. To be fair, apparently I was a much better hider then I thought, since the monster had completely lost sight of me and was currently searching under park benches.

Annnnnd  _that_ , my dear readers, is when Nel revealed my position, which was how I found myself  _here_ – running from an eight-foot tall alien, dressed in nothing but a white leotard and heels. In the  _rain_ , no less.

"Stop!" I cried over my shoulder, my heart pounding with fear. "Just leave me alone, you freak!"

Unsurprisingly, the monster ignored my request and continued chasing after me, with it's screams for footsteps. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as the pounding of it's feet only grew louder and faster.

I tried to sharply turn at a corner, but slipped on the wet leaves and landed flat on my back. The wind was momentarily knocked out of me and the cold air shocked my lungs as I struggled to inhale. The footsteps were quickly approaching and I leapt to my feet. Before I could take so much of a step, a crushing blow came down on my skull and I was sent reeling back, landing a few feet away in a pool of limbs with a sharp  _crunch!_  I released a whimper and spat out a mixture of salvia and blood. My head began to pound, but I forced myself to crawl on all fours.

Breath shallow, my stomach squirmed as the monster approached me, grinning maliciously at me, revealing it's purple fangs glinting over it's rubbery pale gums. My heart jumped as it slapped a gigantic fist to it's palm. I shakily climbed to my feet and tried to run again, but the violently spinning world sent me crashing back down onto my stomach.

 _ **Helga, what are you doing?**_  Nel's voice rang in my ears. I shrieked and whipped my head up, looking around wildly. My eyes landed on the form of the dark feline, watching everything from a tree, a safe distance away.  _ **Get up!**_

I scowled. "You fucking try fighting this asshole then, if it's so motherfucking easy!" I barked, angrily. How  _dare_ she critique  _me_  whilst she sat calmly in the safe havens of a tree watching me get the life beaten out of me. I mean, did  _she_  have to battle an evil, ugly monster while dressed in the most impractical get up in existence? (Note to self: If, and that's a very big 'if', I get out of this alive, I'm gonna have to have a word with Nel about this stupid bathing suit).

The monster slammed it's foot into the ground, mere inches from my face. My skin crawled as I looked at it's disgusting foot, sprawled like tree roots. Turning, I craned my neck upwards, tracing up it's thick legs, ashy body, up to it's bulging, angry eyes.

The monster pulled it's large fist over it's shoulder. I felt myself turn cold as I realised it's intention. My heart raced frantically, but I couldn't force my body to move a fraction. Letting out a scratchy cry, the monster's fist came down. My eyes widened as the fist flew closer and closer to my face. A scream ripped itself from my throat and, in a poor attempt to protect myself, I lifted my arms up in front of my face and squeezed my eyes shut.

I awaited the pain . . . but felt nothing.

Instead, I heard a loud crackling buzzing in my ear. Vibrations slithered up and down my arms as my neck hair stood up straight. Something raced uncomfortably in my stomach, but I paid it no mind. Not feeling any fists smashing into my nose, I slowly peaked open one eye . . .

. . . and let out a loud, audible gasp at what separated the monster's fist from my face.

A thin shimmery, blue wall had suddenly formed at the end of my hands. It was a barrier of some sort. I could hear a pounding in my ears as I examined the swirling patterns moving so gracefully along the blue light. The monster's fist was pressed up against the barrier, rather then my face, and instantly I knew what this wall was.

 _ **Helga,**_  Nel's voice ran through my head. I looked up, finding her widened eyes easily.  _ **That's your power – force fields!**_

Slowly, I turned back to the monster. The barrier's brilliant haze almost rivaled the harsh bulbs of it's eyes. Amber narrowed to slits as the monster let out a ferocious roar. I almost peed my pants, but before I could even scream, the monster threw another punch at the wall. It felt as if my skeleton was vibrating inside my body, but the wall remained strong, whispering cackles in my ears.

A light bulb suddenly struck me. I brought my hands close to my chest then quickly pushed them towards the barrier. As expected, the barrier remained at my fingertips and sent the monster flying.

I smirked in victory.

_**Good job, Helga!** _

Damn right, 'Good job, Helga'.

As I climbed to my feet, I realised that the rush of power left me feeling extremely drained. Not only that, but I was beginning to take notice of my injuries. Something warm was soaking the back of my head and I  _knew_  it had nothing to do with the rain pelting down on me. Something dripped into my eye and I quickly wiped it away. Looking down at my crimson-stained hand, I balled it into a fist by my side. Rain hammered down like a hail of bullets, soaking me to the bone, but I didn't care. Spitting out another ball of reddish saliva, I pulled the hoodie over my head and muttered to myself, "Oh, it's gonna get it now."

Multiple gasps caught my attention and I looked up. Blinking, I felt my jaw go slack when I caught sight of a growing crowd, watching the entire thing from the edge of the park. I realised, with horror, that some had their phones our and had been filming the entire thing.

_Shit._

I didn't know how to properly act in this situation, so I settled for glaring at them. What? Who decides to record something like  _this_  safely from the sidelines while I'm putting my ass on the line to protect them? "What are you all doing?!" I demanded. "Don't you all see that monster? Get out of–!"

_**Helga! Look out!** _

"Huh?"

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes widened as a giant fist was suddenly coming right at me. I ignored the multiple gasps and cries from behind me, and quickly dodged it. The monster glared daggers at me, but I turned on my heel and bolted in the other direction. "Nel! How am I supposed to defeat this thing?!"

_**Helga – inside your boot!** _

"What?"

_**Look inside you boot! Quickly!** _

I hid behind one a nearby tree, slumping against it's thick trunk to catch my breath. My heart was pounding in my ears and my breath coming out in short, loud puffs.

Bending down, I reached my hand into the leg of my boot, pausing when my fingers brush an unfamiliar item. What the hell – there's a knife in here!

_**Did you find it?** _

How did I  _not_ feel that?

Dragging it from my boot, I tightly grasped it in both hands. It was the size of my forearm and had a long double-edged blade forged from silver. A set of strange writings was written on the blade and the hilt was an ethereal shade of white.

_Sweet._

Looking up, I let out a shriek as my vision was suddenly filled with an approaching fist. I barely managed to roll over, hugging the dagger tightly to my chest. The monster's fist flew past me and into the tree. I watched in horror as the trunk was ripped straight from the ground, landing with a tremendous crash onto it's side. Screams sounded from the growing crowd and the monster's eyes flashed red with rage as it turned back to me.

I gulped.  _Way to go, Helga, you made him angry._

_**Stop running away, Helga!** _

The monster snarled and swung it's meaty fist at me again. Only this time, I was ready – I quickly brought up a blue shield, gritting my teeth when his fist made contact with it. My muscles strained and vibrations ran through my body as it repeatedly bashed it's fists into the wall, one after another.

"You know," I gritted my teeth, panting hard as I felt myself begin to tire. I met it's malevolent look with a glare of my own. "You seriously are stupid, asshole!" I thrusted my arms forward, sending the monster stumbling backwards. It was momentarily defenceless, but that was all I needed. My fingers curled tightly around the hilt and, wheeling my arm backwards, I sent the blade flying through the air.

_Swish! Swish! Swish!_

The world around me froze as I watched in anticipation as the knife sliced through the night air. I didn't hear any words leaving the mouths of the watching crowd.

Everything stopped, except the spinning knife.

The knife lodged itself deep into the monster's torso.

My eyes widened in shock as the creature let out a high-pitched howl and I quickly covered my ears from the terrible sound.

_**Helga, get out of there now!** _

I obediently spun around and bolted, mustering any remaining strength to put as much distance between me and that monster. I barely had taken a few steps before I was swept off my feet from a sudden explosion and I was sent flying.

The impact knocked the wind out of me as I landed roughly on the pavement. Landing on my belly, I was winded and struggled to breath. For a few seconds, I lay there, rigid, as my mind replayed the events, over and over. I rolled to my side and blinked, barely comprehending what had happened.

_D-Did I just . . . ?_

My body acted on it's own – in a flash, I sat up straight, like a bullet, my arm stretched out in front of my body. The knife returned to my outstretched palm and my fingers wrapped around it. Looking down at the blade, my eyes widened as I, just in time, caught the glowing runes winking out of existence.

I breathed loudly, taking in the monster-free area. My eyes made contact with Nel, whom looked both surprised but relieved at my success. She sent me a single nod, which I returned with a crooked smile. I suddenly became aware of the excited cheering and applauding of the crowd. Turning to their direction, I scanned each of the faces in the sea of people, taking in each and every one of their grins.

I stiffened when I recognised one of those faces –  _it belonged to Arnold!_

A flash of panic sent my heart racing as millions of questions buzzed in my mind. How long had he been there? Did he see everything? Did he recognise me? I could tell if he recognised me, he looked like he was in to much shock upon witnessing what had just happened. Gawking at me, he was among those who clapped, with blinking eyes no doubt questioning everything they had all seen. The longer I stared, the more faces I began recognising among the crowd; I spotted Lila, Gerald, Nadine, Sid–

_**Helga, we best be going.** _

I looked over to the tree, but found that Nel no longer resided in it's branches. I could heard sirens approaching and decided now was as good as any time to get out of here.

I turned to leave–

"Wait!" I froze in my tracks, but didn't turn around. It was silent, no one dared to say anything, except for the speaker, probably a reporter. "Please, who are you?"

I didn't reply right away.

Instead, I focused on controlling the racing of my heart and squirming of my stomach. Clasping my shaking fists tight, I turned to face the crowd determinedly. "Blue Jay," my voice was strong, deeper then usual. "My name is Blue Jay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And boom! That's a wrap! I don't actually know when I plan to update this story - this is more a test drive then anything. I haven't written any other chapters and just wanted to see what type of response I got from this. So, if you enjoyed this or are in some way curious as to what happens, let me know with a comment and I'll work harder to type up the next chapter.
> 
> So, for some unneeded context, I don't actually know why I thought up this idea. I just freaking love magical girls - it's one of my favourite genres since a) feminism and b) the possibilities are freaking endless! It's interesting to explore you characters through how they react to getting powers, risking their lives for other, keeping it all a secret and all that crap. I never get tired of reading magical girl AU's and decided to mix it with this fandom.
> 
> Also, the songs used in this chapter were: Yours to Hold by Skillet and So What! by P!nk
> 
> Anyway, yeah, as I said before, be sure to drop a comment to let me know if I should continue with this, or give me some constructive criticism or even just a question. I dunno, comments are really encouraging and do make me work harder. Hope y'all enjoyed reading this though!


	3. Wonder Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes in huge breath* CAN I GET A MOTHERFUCKING HALLELUJAH?! C'MON, SAY IT WITH ME! HALL-MOTHERFUCKING-ELUJAH! *clears throat* sorry, for that mild cursing and rude display but y'all have NO IDEA how much I've been stressing about this chappie! If it was difficult for y'all to wait, think of how I felt having to type this up!  
> Anywhooties, it's done now - it's yours - I wash my hands of it!  
> ALSO, HUGE THANK YOU TO ALL THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS GOT, Y'ALL ARE ABSOLUTE DOLLS!  
> Little warning: I realized while writing this that it actually gets kinda graphic towards the end. Nothing to bad, but just a little heads up. So, I might change the rating to an M just for the violence (though I can't imagine it getting much worse then this for a while) . . .
> 
> (Also, 'nother little warning, this chapter is actually 104 pages [howthefuckdidIwritesomuchIdon'teventhinkIcancountthathigh WTF]. So, y'all might wanna grab a large snack for this one.)
> 
> Anyways, ON WITH THE MOTHERFUCKING SHOW!

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t stayed up late before.

The concept of exhaustion was in no way foreign to me.  After all, regularly I found myself staying up late to binge watch my favourite shows (at the moment, _Jessica Jones_ had caught my interest) or finish the homework I had put off until the night before it was due. Hell, there’d even been times when my fights with Bob had gotten so irritating that they’d end with me slamming the front door and not returning for a good few hours.

However, this level of exhaustion was somewhat foreign to me.

Don’t get me wrong, none of the above had happened last night; I hadn’t stayed up late watching any TV shows or scrambled to finish my due homework. I hadn’t even fought with Bob – last night, at least.

No, instead I’d spent the night dressed in a tiny white leotard, adorning a matching mask and pair of heels, running around with a talking, purple-eyed cat and, oh yeah, fighting some weird alien thingy.

Don’t get me wrong, after getting back home, I had certainly tried getting to sleep – really. Nel had, after all, explained the importance sleep played to the average person, let alone one planning on remaining a teenaged superhero. However, any time my eyes managed to close, my mind would replay the night’s events – over and over and over again. That Mutant’s eyes, burning into my retinas, as it’s gaze seared with a barbarous rent. It’s thundering fist would be flying straight between my eyes, but, this time, I couldn’t defend myself – my hands, my legs, my body . . . they were all restricted by some invisible force.

I shook my head of the images.

Eventually, at some point in the early morning, I managed to get some sleep. Barely, but some.

So, with this in mind, I think I could hardly be blamed for, what felt like the fifth time, almost stumbling into yet another object. It was a pole this time – before, it was a garbage bin, a parking meter and two cars.

I grimaced. The day had barely begun, but I knew it would be an especially long one.

As my feet shuffled down the street, my tired gaze fell onto a hunched form. Squinting, I realised that the hunched body belonged to none other than my belov– I mean, Arnold.

As usual, he was stood outside his house, his backpack slung over one arm, awaiting our morning bus. His eyes were glued to his phone’s screen clutched tightly in his hands. Spotting his earbuds, I realised he must’ve been watching a video. Seeing the flabbergasted look on his face, I decided it must’ve been a particularly interesting video.

Wordlessly, I arrived outside his house – our official bus stop – and, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets, avoided looking at the magnificent creature next to me, opting to keep my eyes along the road.

I could feel my heart bursting from my chest and thriving in my ears. So, in order to keep with my goal, I tried mentally pushing myself.

_Helga, don’t look at him. Don’t look at the beautiful, blonde Adonis standing next to you. Nope. Not even once. Not even from the corner of your eye because you’re way too good for tha–_

My gaze fell onto a familiar feline perched amongst a tree’s branches across the road. My heart froze when two freakishly violet eyes became trained on my form.

My jaw dropped. **_Nel, what’re you doing?_**

Quickly, I checked to see if Arnold had noticed the purple-eyed cat glaring at us (specifically me). The video he was watching must’ve been captivating because not only had he not noticed Nel, but he also hadn’t noticed a particularly important subject of interest – me. I guess, right now I should feel grateful that I managed to escape his notice (once again), but I couldn’t stop the irritation welling up in my gut.

 ** _Really, Helga, isn’t it obvious?_** I turned back to the narrowed eyes. **_I’m watching over you._**

Shoulders slumping in relief, I shot her a questioning look. **_Watching over me? Why?_**

Nel rolled her eyes, as if the answer was painstakingly obvious. Well, excuse me for not having a clue about how her brain functioned. **_Because, as your mentor, it’s my job to make sure nothing happens to you._**

I rose a sceptic brow. **_You? Protect me? Excuse me, but who, out of the both of us, delivered a ferocious smackdown last night to a certain Mutant?_** I crossed my arms over my chest. **_What’re you gonna do, scratch out the eyes of anyone that you don’t like the look of? Oooh, I feel safe already._**

The look Nel gave me could’ve sent Bob running for the hills with his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

But, quite frankly, it only made me laugh. I couldn’t help it, the holes in her plan were just too big. For extra kicks, I stuck out my tongue at her. Sniffing, she turned her back on me, prompting me to laugh louder, clutching my stomach and leaning over my knees. Serves her right.

“Helga?”

The laughter vanished. My stomach squirmed as an intense pulse raced in my temples. I knew that wonderfully warm voice anywhere.

_Don’t look at him, whatever you do, Helga ol’ girl. Do not look at–_

My gaze sought his over his shoulder and I suddenly found myself the victim to a pair of glimmering emerald eyes. They were vibrant, shinning with such a gentle, hypnotizing kindness that I just couldn’t look away. The smile he wore was polite, the friendly type you’d give to a stranger, but it didn’t stop the fire from spreading along my cheeks.

Damn it. How did he always manage to do this to me? Even after becoming a super awesome superhero last night, Arnold still had a way of making me act like a love-struck, dumb teenage girl. (Yes, I’m perfectly aware that I am in fact a teenager and that of a female, however that is quite beside the point, thank you.)

_Criminy, Helga, I told you not to look at him._

“Well, o-of course you didn’t, f-football head,” I snapped, forcing myself to look away. Sticking my nose in the air, I continued. “You were too busy with your dumb phone.”

Okay, that came out far to accusatory then what I was comfortable with. I mean, it’s not like I was Arnold’s – the heat in my cheeks seared – girlfriend or anything. Who was I to lecture him about noticing my presence when we barely spoke?

Oh no.

What if he thought that I was super jealous of his phone or something? What if he thought that I was one of those girls who constantly needed to monitor their boyfriend’s phone because they thought they were cheating on them? What if he thought I was super clingy? What if he saw through my lies and witnessed the disgustingly pathetic girl with a pitiable huge crush on him that’s lasted her for years?

Great, now he was gonna get creeped out, point his finger at me, declare me insane for thinking he would actually care about me, turn around and leave (despite having school today), then probably never talk to me again, then the day after he’d tell everybody about how obsessed I was with him and they’d all be disgusted and Phoebe would leave, then my life would be ruined, I’d quit being a Guardian, then the Mutants would win and take over the world, then they’d go around everywhere telling everyone about my pathetic crush on him, then they’d point and laugh, then–

Arnold chuckled, interrupting my train of thought. “Right, sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. I blinked in confusion, I hadn’t asked for an apology. “I was just watching this cool video Gerald sent me last night and–”

“Wow, Football Head, I didn’t ask for a life story here,” I sneered with narrowed eyes. Still, I couldn’t help the small curiosity itching at the back of my mind. “Uh, what exactly did Gerald send you, though?”

Of course, that curiosity nagging me was tiny compared to the overwhelming dread I was feeling. I wasn’t psychic or nothing, but I think I knew why Arnold had been so captivated with his phone.

Arnold beamed at me, his eyes lighting up with excitement. Unable to handle the effect that had on my poor heart, I quickly looked away in an attempt to hide my red cheeks. I caught sight of a confused Nel, questioning just what was happening that had me turning into such a pitiful blushing maiden, but I tore my gaze from hers as well, looking to the tips of my shoes.

Arnold, as usual, didn’t realise the effect he had on me. “Gerald managed to get actual footage of the fight last night,” he gushed excitedly. “It’s of Blue Jay and that monster – can you believe it?”

Yep, my fearful suspicions were confirmed.

Arnold had a video of me.

Okay, at this point I was ready to chuck my school bag, turn around and sprint for the hills.  I could barely talk to Arnold, let alone about a masked superheroine with weird superpowers that could ‘easily’ take down an alien twice her size, armed with only a singular knife . . . who just happened to be me. No thanks, I may be a decent liar, but most certainly not when Arnold was involved and especially not under these circumstances.

Still, there was a small part of me that wondered what he thought about m– I mean, _Blue Jay._

I suddenly was aware of how close Arnold’s face was to mine.

Really close.

Like, really, super close.

At some point during my little mental panic attack, Arnold had shoved his phone under my nose and moved in closely by my side to watch it. I gulped, feeling not only my cheeks, but my entire _face_ burst into untamed flames. Did he have to stand so close to me? Could this boy not see what he was doing to me?

 _Apparently not_.

Of course, Arnold was much too innocent to understand that a simple smile could have me weak at the knees for days. His eyes were drawn to the tiny screen in his hand, a dorky grin spreading across his face. My stomach, at this point, was doing as many flips as I had last night, so I followed his example and turned my attention to the screen in front of me.

It was different, seeing my alter ego fighting the Mutant from a perspective other than my own. You couldn’t see the panic of fear I’d been feeling. No, all you saw was a determined young woman with great powers.

The fire in my cheeks was forgotten as I watched the woman suddenly throw her knife into the air. In my head, it had lasted for hours, when in reality it had only taken a couple of seconds for the knife to sink itself into the Mutant’s flesh.

Chills ran up and down my spine.  The Mutant let out a pained howl and I visibly grimaced.  Recollections of my nightmare suddenly raced through my mind.

Arnold misunderstood the reason for my shakiness. “I know,” he gave me a sympathising look, his eyebrows pulled together as he paused the video. “It’s a little graphic, huh?”

Well, it’s not like I could exactly correct his assumptions. I wasn’t about to go telling everyone that I was the girl from last night, especially Arnold of all people. So, I nodded silently, my gaze still on the phone clutched in his grasp.

All I could manage was a short stunned, “Wow.”

I mean, what else was there to say? I had just witnessed myself murder someone. I didn’t know whether to feel ashamed or proud.

I tried to remind myself that it had been a Mutant, intent on ripping the lives from numerous of innocent people, but I couldn’t stop the guilt from eating away at me.

“I know, right?” Arnold grinned, shoving the phone back into his pocket. I raised a brow, clueless on what he was even talking about. “Isn’t she amazing?”

Oh.

Arnold thought I was speechless because of Blue Jay, not because I had just witnessed myself killing someone. Although, to be fair–

Wait a minute.

. . . uh oh.

My heart thundered loudly against my rib cage as my brain registered the puppy dog-look of admiration on Arnold’s face. “Um, Football Head . . . what do you actually think of this girl?”

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t smart to ask . . . but since when had I ever done anything remotely smart?

His cheeks turned a dusty pink and he averted his gaze, shuffling awkwardly. “Uh, what do you mean?”

I quirked a brow. “Well, you seem to have quite the admiration for her . . .”

“Well, can you blame me?” Arnold’s eyes suddenly softened and the corners of his mouth lifted. “I mean, I don’t really know what that was last night – no one does – but whatever it was . . . she saved us. She– Blue Jay protected us against that thing, whatever it was. I just think it’s admirable, y’know?”

Shit.

Arnold had practically confirmed it. If not by what he said, then by the soft affection in his eyes or the gentleness in his tone. There was no denying – Arnold had a thing for Blue Jay, who was essentially me.

Not only did my cheeks and face shine beet red, but I felt my entire body go beet red. Including my . . . _knees?_ How the hell were my _knees_ my blushing?

_A-Arnold had a thing for me . . ._

Arnold suddenly stiffened, apparently realising that it had been me he’d just spoken to. Eyes darting across my face, the smile fell from his lips and he shuffled even more awkwardly. “I–I mean n–not that I, well– y –yeah . . .” he trailed off, nudging his toe against the pavement and looking anywhere but me, cheeks now resembling a pair of tomatoes.

I realised that, as I watched him with wide eyes, my jaw had, at some point, dropped, so I clamped my mouth shut. Mirroring his movements, I turned my back to him and uncomfortably shuffled. “O-Okay,” was all I could manage.

From across the road, Nel shot me an extremely bewildered look, but my mortified gaze was looking past her. I had no idea how to react to any of this. My mind was spinning sporadically with this new information.

Part of me yearned to boldly declare that it was me he admired – _me,_ Helga G. Pataki. That _I_ was Blue Jay, and I was more than happy to love him like he seemed to me.

Then, I froze.

Clearly, Arnold had no feelings for _me_ , that much was established years ago. It was safe to say that I creeped him out more than anything (not that I could blame him, but still). Yeah, try building a relationship around that.

Not only that, but who was to say that Arnold even had feelings for this girl? I never was good at reading other people (successfully, at least) and I’d made more than one mistake before. Especially when it came to Arnold. What he felt towards this girl could be admiration, clear and simple. I’d seen how people had spoken of her – as if she were some beacon of hope. After all, she did seemingly come from nowhere and selfless saved the countless lives of others with superpowers. To them, despite the many questions that followed her, Blue Jay’s presence brought forth a sense of security and hope. 

According to the people, that is.

Besides, Arnold surely wouldn’t fall for someone he didn’t know, right? I mean, Blue Jay was beautiful, but that didn’t automatically earn his affections, right?

Right. Of course not. Arnold was the type to fall in love for their heart, rather than something as shallow such as appearance. And, considering Arnold didn’t know Blue Jay, he couldn’t possibly have a thing for her.

Yep, that sounded right.

I nodded, determined.

The only feelings Arnold had for Blue Jay were of pure admiration. Nothing silly nor romantic.

At least, I hope so. Otherwise, if for some reason he _had_ fallen for Blue Jay, then not only was little Ms. Perfect my love rival for his affections, but somehow _I_ was.

. . . well, this suddenly got fucking complex.

 

The bus was positively thriving with talk of the mysterious superheroine, Blue Jay, and her epic battle with the monster last night. It was odd to hear others gushing so loudly about me. Approvingly, that is.  Granted, no one had any idea that the superhero they spoke of so highly was actually me, but _still_. It didn’t make it any less weird – it almost felt paradoxical.

“–where do you think she came from–”

“–maybe she’s an alien–”

 “–I heard she’s from the government–”

 “–is she part of the Avengers–”

“–Serena, the Avengers are _fictional_ –”

“–you don’t know that, Molly–”

“–what was that thing she was fighting–”

Their words began losing meaning as voices dulled to a sombre mummer. Bleary-eyed, I sat slumped in my seat, as my lack of sleep began catching up with me. The fight I had with that Mutant last night felt almost cinch compared to the current battle against my eyelids. The little sucks kept shutting and I was finding it harder and harder to . . .keep . . . opening . . .

_Thump!_

An ungraceful snort fell from my mouth as I shot up, rubbing my red forehead. Damn it, that was the _third_ time that’s happened. How many times could one’s head keep smashing into the seat bar before it got old?

Grumbling to myself, I rubbed my eyes. It seemed that I was right – today _was_ going to be a long day.

“So, where do you think she came from, Gerald?”

Somehow, Arnold’s voice managed to cut through the multitudes of others. A sudden surge of energy had me sitting up straight, seeking the direction in which his (angelic) voice had come from.

He sat at the front of the bus, as usual, with Gerald occupying the seat in front. The dark-skinned male was turned around to face his best friend and, ugh, _Lila_ , whom was seated next to Arnold. My grip on the seat bar was white-knuckled as I held my breath behind pursed lips. I tried looking away, but my eyes kept returning to the couple that sat two seats in front of me.

Arnold’s gaze briefly flickered to the redheaded beauty sat beside him. She remained oblivious as he scanned her features, admiring her allure with a soft, affectionate smile. My heart throbbed painfully. Oh, how I wished he would look at _me_ like that.

Gerald smirked and stuck his nose in the air. “I’m so glad you asked, Arnold,” I wanted to puke at his disgustingly smug tone. “There are multiple theories as to where she actually came from. Personally, I believe she and the monster are both experiments from the illuminati.”

My mouth fell open. _What?_

Lila voiced my thoughts. “What?”

“Think about it!” Gerald burst, holding up a finger and looking between them with excited eyes. “We all know how the illuminati are – and their thirst for power – who’s to say they haven’t been doin’ a little experimenting to make the perfect weapon for that exact reason? That monster-thingy could be an experiment which went outta hand, so the girl was an attempt to fix their mistake – I mean, did y’all see her strength? She’s clearly not normal.”

_Well, no shit, dumbass._

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Lila shook her head. “Gerald,” she sighed giving him an awfully patronizing, piteous look. “I think you’ve been watching one too many conspiracy theory videos. Again.”

Gerald shot her a dirty look.

“How would they have made her that fast, then? And strong?” Arnold questioned, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

For a second time, my jaw dropped. _Please_ tell me that Arnold did _not_ believe this.

“Easy,” Gerald seemed pleased that someone was taking his theory seriously and shifted to fully face Arnold. Lila scoffed, but Gerald ignored her and crossed his arms, proudly raising his chin. “Genetic engineering, man.”

“I find that ever so hard to believe,” Lila remarked. “I mean, last time I checked human genetic engineering was illegal, let alone impossible.”

“Ah! But that, my dear friend,” Gerald sent a mischievous wink to Lila, who rose a sceptical brow in response, “is what they _want_ you to think. C’mon, the illuminati’s always starting shit. Frankly, I don’t think she’s an alien, but an experiment from the illuminati sent to rid her fellow experiment gone wrong.”

“Well, what about her powers, then? How would you explain that? Or is that also a result of genetic engineering?”

I blinked as three pairs of eyes turned in my direction. I squirmed under their gazes and wondered what the hell I’d done to suddenly have them all staring at me like that.

Then, I realised that that sceptic voice had been mine, questioning Gerald’s flimsy theories. Somehow my mouth kept going, “I mean, I’m not exactly sure what the extent of genetic engineering would be, but I’m pretty sure throwing up magical shield is not one of the perks that come with it. Strength and speed – sure. But magic? Definitely not.”

What the hell? Where was this all coming from? Since when did I care for Tall Hair Boy’s dumb theories?

Lila and Arnold both gaped at me, trying to comprehend why I, Helga G. Pataki, was suddenly speaking to them. Let alone about the mysterious Blue Jay. Hell, I myself was trying to understand that.

Gerald narrowed his eyes. “Well, what do _you_ ,” he sneered, “know about genetic engineering, then?”

“Uh, apparently more then you, Tall Hair Boy,” I responded coolly. “Genetic engineering enhances human capabilities, it doesn’t create new ones.”

A beat of silence passed.

I blinked. Somehow I’d ended up entering a debate with Gerald Johanssen about Blue Jay’s origins. Or rather _my_ origins. Even for me that was shocking. Regardless whether I was Blue Jay or not, I kept to myself on the bus and never conversed with anyone. Much less, Gerald.

I rubbed my temple. The lack of sleep must’ve been getting to me.

Lila suddenly giggled, apparently finding the whole thing amusing. Her hands pressed delicately to her mouth as soft chortles fell– nay, _floated_ out. My jaw almost dropped. Seriously, was _everything_ about her ridiculously feminine?

“She has a fair point, Gerald,” Lila admitted, flashing me an impressed grin. “Your theory does have ever so many holes in it, after all.”

Gerald’s jaw went slack and his cheeks turned a rosy pink. “You’re taking _her_ side?”

I lifted a brow. Sore loser, much?

“There’re no sides, Gerald,” Arnold calmly interjected, but was ignored.

“Why not?” Lila shrugged nonchalantly. “She raises a good point. Besides, if this Blue Jay was sent from the illuminati, where’s her gun? She only had a knife, from what I could see. No gun. I sincerely doubt she’d be sent to take down such a creature without the aid of a gun if it was the illuminati that sent her.”

The illuminati may not have sent Blue Jay without a gun, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes. But _Nel_ most certainly would.

And, not only that, but in a white bathing suit.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Gerald squinted at both Lila and I challengingly. “Yeah? Then where do you think she came from, if not from the illuminati, then?”

I gulped. _Uh oh._

Why oh why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut?

“Aren’t we being a bit hasty in trying to figure out where she came from?” Lila questioned with a shake of her head. “I mean, we’ve only seen her once and yet there’s an ungodly amount of theories about her – she’s either a failed experiment, a weapon, an alien, even a ghost. But I think we’re focusing too much on the questions and elaborate backstories instead of what matters – Ms. Blue Jay saved us from whatever that thing was last night. I don’t know what it was, but I do know that, had it not been for her, a lot more people would have been rushed to the hospital last night. I think we should just be grateful for her.”

I could’ve cried from relief. My dislike for Lila was momentarily dropped in my gratitude to the words she’d just spoken. I swear, I almost wrapped my arms around her and delivered a big, wet sloppy kiss – _almost._

Clearing my throat, I nodded in agreement. “Y–Yeah, ditto. Who the hell cares where she came from? Her actions speak louder, in my opinion.”

My opinion being obviously the superior one, of course.

Gerald frowned at the pair of us and opened his mouth, no doubt to further the debate, when Arnold loudly cleared his throat. “So, um, Gerald, what do _you_ think of Blue Jay, then? As a person, I mean.”

The corners of Gerald’s mouth turned up. “Well,” he rested his chin between his thumb and index finger, looking up in thought. “She is kinda hot.”

Three jaws dropped in response.

And Gerald suddenly became the victim of three objections.

“–are you serious–”

“–she saved us–”

“–and all you can think about is ‘she’s hot’–”

“– _so_ degrading–”

“Alright, alright!” Gerald held up his hands in defence, effectively silencing all our protests. “Okay, fair enough – but ‘cmon, can you blame me? Did you _see_ what she was wearing – or the _lack_ of it?”

It felt like the hundredth time that blood rushed to my face today.

I mean, it was bad enough that I had to fight in the little that I wore. I didn’t need _Gerald_ pointing it out, thank you very much.

“Not really,” Lila admitted with a shrug. “I was ever so distracted by the monster twice her size with horns growing from it’s head.”

Gerald shot her a dirty look then turned to Arnold pleadingly. “C’mon, buddy, I can’t be the only one who noticed, well, _her._ C’mon, man, you had to have looked to!”

Lila and I both raised our brows at Arnold, waiting for his answer.

Arnold’s cheeks glowed red under our accusatory surveys. Gulping, he averted his gaze to his folded hands. “U-Um, well, it’s not like I didn’t notice, _per say_ . . .” Arnold’s eyes darted between Lila’s and mine, then retreated back to his hands. “She was definitely beautiful – sure – I just wasn’t focused _primarily_ on that.”

Criminy, that did it. Not only did my cheeks feel like they’d just been lit on fire, but simultaneously as if someone had just set off fireworks in my chest.

Suddenly feeling shy, I ducked my head and scratched my cheek in an attempt to hide their new colour.

Yes, I am aware how pathetic I am acting, but I couldn’t help it. Arnold calling Blur Jay beautiful essentially felt like he was calling _me_ beautiful. I mean, she _was_ me, so, in a way, technically he was–

A pair of eyes were suddenly boring into me, so, clenching my jaw, I forced myself to look up. I met Lila’s confused gaze, questioning why _I_ was the one blushing when Arnold had been talking of Blue Jay.

Scrunching up my face, I frowned (resisting the very tempting urge to stick out my tongue at her) and turned to look over my shoulder, feigning anger, when really all I felt was a hot, red welt of embarrassment that she’d caught me acting like a blushing Nancy.

Thankfully our exchange went unnoticed by the boys. Gerald gave Arnold a particularly sly smirk and elbowed his friend playfully. “Oooh, looks like our wittle baby, Arnie, _did_ notice a few things about Miss Blue Jay, after all,” he sung teasingly. His grin grew as Arnold’s cheeks glowed brighter.

I couldn’t help ducking my head as Gerald continued to tease Arnold. The poor boy’s was so red that his oblong-shaped head resembled a tomato. Or a red banana.

“Helga?”

Startled, I jumped, looking up to meet Lila’s confused stare. She examined my red beet cheeks (which only made them glow brighter) and panicked look with suspicious eyes. I realised that, this time, it wasn’t just her who had noticed my strange behaviour as now the boys had stopped conversing and gave me strange looks. “You alright? You look ever so red.”

I gulped, looking away “Uh, y-y-yeah, of c-course, I’m f-fine – why the hell w-w-w-wouldn’t I be?” My voice was practically a high-pitched squeal and mentally I kicked myself. If my behaviour wasn’t enough to convince them that I was most definitely _not_ alright, then my stuttering did.

Something in the near distance caught my eyes and, face brightening, I sat up straight. “O-Oh, would you look at that? We’re here!”

Before anyone could so much as open their mouths, I had already leapt to my feet and hightailed it out of there just as the doors shuttered open.

Despite the distance I managed to put between myself and the bus, I could still hear Gerald say, “Damn, she moves fast.”

* * *

If the talk of Blue Jay on the bus had been a mere buzz, then _this_ was an outright roar. The minute I stepped into the hallways, I was hit by a multitude of voices recounting the newsworthy story from last night. People tossed questions, elaborate backstories and re-enactments across the hallway at one another, trading information like kids would their Pokémon’s (I imagine, I’ve never played).

On more than one occasion, I heard comparisons to Wonder Woman. Gritting my teeth in exasperation, I marched down the hall, swinging my fists by my side

As a loud yawn escaped me, I was reminded just how tired I was. My shoulders slouched, I mentally berated Nel. That dumb cat had taken it upon herself to wake me up ever so gently by pouncing onto my face, claws at the ready, at six in the morning – _two_ hours after I’d actually managed to fall asleep. And she actually had the nerve to lecture me, complaining that I should’ve slept earlier and then maybe I wouldn’t be feeling so ‘grouchy’.

Criminy, like I would have this problem if it hadn’t been for her.

And, not only that, but after I had grudgingly climbed out of bed, she continued to complain about everything and anything under the sun.

Especially my hoodie.

Yeah, for whatever reason, Nel decided that she hated my hoodie with a burning passion

Gritting my teeth, I thought back to earlier this morning, when I’d been getting ready. 

* * *

 

_“Helga, is that hoodie apart of your uniform?”_

_“Huh?” Tearing my gaze from my reflection, I sent Nel a bemused look over my shoulder. The black feline was perched on top of my window sill with her tail flickering sharply behind her. “Uh, why does that matter?”_

_Nel wrinkled her nose distastefully as she looked over my favourite black hoodie. “It just looks, well, urban, doesn’t it?”_

_I rolled my eyes and turned back to face the mirror on my vanity. I grabbed my brush and tugged it through my hair in an attempt to tame it back into its usual style. “Look, Nel, you may be my, erm, mentor or whatever,” I grimaced when I yanked a particularly sensitive spot on my scalp, “but you are most certainly not my stylist. Got it?”_

_Especially not after what I was forced to wear last night._  

_“I’m not your maid either, Helga,” she frowned. “You should be able to get out of bed on time without me – you’re sixteen, after all.” I rolled my eyes. “And stop rolling your eyes at me. It’s extremely rude.”_

_“Oh, please,” I scoffed, placing my hairbrush down and looking at Nel’s reflection in the mirror. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t speak. “Like you haven’t rolled your eyes at least twenty times today alone.”_

_Nel’s ears drew back. “One can hardly blame me,” she bit out, “when half of the things that come out of your mouth are truly idiotic, Helga.”_

_I gritted my teeth, seriously fighting the urge to smack the dumb cat. Why had I agreed to be a Guardian again?_

_The look I gave Nel must’ve been particularly nasty because, without another word, she sniffed and turned away. My jaw dropped. Was she serious? And_ I _was the immature one?_

_Scowling, I turned back to my reflection and examined the face staring back. The face wasn’t like Blue Jay’s, it wasn’t good-looking, but it was mine nonetheless. As I tied my hair up in it’s two signature ponytails, my eyes remained glued to the bags residing underneath. I sighed in exasperation. They were really obvious and I didn’t exactly own any makeup to cover them. Hm, maybe I should look into buying some . . ._

_Turning back to face Nel, I placed my hands onto my hips and pushed back my shoulders. Apparently she’d gotten over her hissy fit, because she was back to staring at me in bemusement. Clearing my thoat, I pushed forth a crooked smile. “So,” I raised my chin, “How do I look?”_

_She looked unimpressed. “Those rings around your eyes are big enough to rival those of Saturn,” she replied flatly. “And also like you’re about to mug me.”_

_Throwing my hands to my side, I glared at her. “Would you quit it about the hoodie?!”_

_Grabbing my bag, I marched across the room and purposely slammed the door loudly. Hmp! Like Nel had any right to lecture me on what I wore. So what if I looked a little sketchy? I happened to like my hoodie, thank you. It offered me a sense of security that I appreciated. Today in particular. I had a feeling, given the drowsiness I felt, I’d need something to hide behind._

_My movements felt slow as I climbed down the stairs. I imagined that, given how sluggish I felt, I could’ve easily passed for some type of zombie. Just without the lust for brains (not that I’d find any in this household, of course). I pinched my nose, deciding that today in particular was going to go quite slow._

_There was a chatter coming from downstairs that made me pause. I quirked an eyebrow. It was never loud in the morning. Normally, Miriam was passed out on the couch (it was becoming her favourite spot) and Bob had already left for work. Even with Olga temporarily here, the mornings weren’t particularly loud. Especially this loud._

_I blinked when reaching the lounge room; Bob, for one thing, was most certainly not at work. No, instead he was crouched in front of the TV, his back turned to me, flicking the channels and muttering unintelligently to himself. I caught a few stray words, “Criminy . . . reporters these days . . . only celebrities gettin’ knocked up . . .”_

_Drawing my eyebrows together, I decided I didn’t particularly want to know why he was so winded up, so I wordlessly headed for the kitchen – where most of the noise seemed to be coming from._

_Reaching said kitchen, I froze and felt my jaw drop. I blinked – once, twice, thrice. But, it still remained there – the scene, that is. The scene of complete topsy turvy that I in no way believed was really happening._

_To my complete and utter shock, Miriam was, first of all,_ not _passed out on the table or couch. No, she was actually – I_ kid you not _– cooking._

_For safety measures, I again blinked. Then rubbed my eyes._

_She hadn’t noticed my astonished presence as her back was facing me as she leaned over the stove (not like that_ that _would stop her, though). I couldn’t see what she was ‘cooking’ (I know Miriam, cooking was not one of her fortes), but the sizzles and spits confirmed it to be bacon. My stomach silently growled as I inhaled the mouth-watering scent. Part of me was actually tempted to stay back for breakfast, but I knew that, more than likely, would overcook it, like most of her meals._

_As if to prove my point, Miriam’s attention wasn’t even on her attempted meal, but instead on Olga’s dancing form as she practically skipped around the kitchen, clutching a newspaper in her hands. There was a twinkling excitement in her eyes as a playful smile tugged at her lips._

_Whatever she was reading, she certainly was eager about it._

_And, apparently, so was Miriam. “A-annnd then w-what happened?”_

_Grinning, Olga turned to scan her current page. “Well, let’s see – ‘witnesses state that the mysterious woman identified herself as Blue Jay, but left further questions unanswered, making a hasty exit into the night.’ Oooh, how positively mysterious!”_

_Any remaining exhaustion immediately vanished as realisation hit me like a bolt of lightning. My heart thrived against my rib cage as my brain began burning like it was on fire. I knew what they were acting so weird about now – or rather, who._

_Me._

_. . ._

_You know, on second thoughts, I really didn’t need lunch for today. Nel would probably bite my head off for skipping another meal, especially since I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, but I’m sure, just for today, I could pull through. Besides, I, quite frankly, did not want to hear any news reports or articles on the publics thoughts about last night. Much less from the two brainless ninnies in front of me._

_I spun around to exit the scene–_

_“Oh, baby sis, what a surprise!” I halted in my steps, mentally my so called ‘luck’. It seemed that my older sister had, for once, taken notice of my existence. “You got up without me!”_

_I scowled, balling up my fists._

Act casual, Helga, _I reminded myself._ Try acting like you normally would.

_Reluctantly, I turned around to face the two blondes curiously watching me. Forcing forward a casual look of indifference, I casually leaned against the wall, casually folding my arms across my chest. Yup, totally casual. “It’s not like I’m incapable of functioning without you,” I deadpanned, raising an apathetic brow. “What’re you two chuckleheads losing’ your marbles over, anyway?”_

_Of course, anyone with half a brain cell could figure out what they’d been talking about. They even had said my– err,_ Blue Jay’s _name, for cripes sake. Still, I figured I’d have to act like I had no idea._

_It was if I had just announced that we had won the lottery. Olga’s eyes practically popped out of her sockets as the gigantic grin came back. Her grip on the paper tightened as she raced to my side._

_“Why, little sis!” She shoved the wrinkled paper under my nose and made wild gestures with her hands. “Haven’t you heard? Well, I guess you wouldn’t have cause you spent the entire night boarded up in your room last night, hehe – but, anyway there was some type of attack last night and this guy was saved by a real life superhero! A female one, at that!”_

_The written words on the page slowly came into focus as I read the title._

**Hillwood’s Own Wonder Woman?**

_I blinked._

_. . . Wonder Woman?_

_. . ._

_. . ._

_. . . then scowled._

_Oh, come on. Wonder Woman? Why Wonder Woman? I don’t even_ like _Wonder Woman! Honestly, I look nothing like her. Why couldn’t I be Hillwood’s Own Superman? More powerful, in my opinion. Or, perhaps, Hillwood’s Own Batman would be closer to reality . . . yeah, I think I preferred Batman._

_Instead I got some sissy, bikini-wearing Princess who’s only fans remained to be teenaged boys who were well aware of how little she wore._

_Pursing my lips, I shoved paper from my face. Olga lifted an eyebrow, thoroughly confused. I held out an outstretched palm, “Did you make me lunch today or not?”_

_Because I really had no time for this. The bus was going to get here any moment and I still hadn’t left. Given how tired I was, I really didn’t want to have to start the day off chasing the bus again._

_Despite my question being reasonable, Olga reacted as if I had straight up murdered a puppy. Her jaw dropped and her delicate hands flew to cover her open mouth. “Why, Helga, you can’t be serious!”_

_I rose a brow. “What?”_

_“Baby sis!” Olga’s hands suddenly clasped my shoulders and her nose touched mine as she forced me to look into her blue eyes. I swallowed and fought to keep my expression neutral. “Aren’t you even a little curious about what happened last night?”_

_I wasn’t lying when I responded with a flat, “No.” I’d gotten all my answers last night, after all._

_Olga’s forehead crinkled as she looked at me almost in disappointment. I suddenly became aware of how uncomfortably close she was to me and roughly pushed away from her. “Alright, back it up, Olga! Criminy, I’m trying to breathe here!”_

_“Helga, honey,” Miriam stepped forward, clutching the spatula shakily in her pale hands. Her eyebrows were drawn together as her eyes glimmered with something unrecognisable behind her rectangular glasses. “Last night, t-there was a-a–”_

_“I know what happened last night, Miriam,” I rolled my eyes, looking away and placing my hands on my hips. I was beginning to get more and more agitated. I mean, I already knew what had happened last night and I really didn’t want to have to hear it from Miriam’s quivering voice. “I’m aware of the attack, I just don’t care.”_

_Inwardly, I cringed. That definitely wasn’t the appropriate response. That sounded upright suspicious, if not sociopathic._

_Miriam and Olga’s mouths dropped. “Don’t care?” They repeated in sync, both looking equally as horrified._

_Well, shit._

_“Yeah,” Swallowing, I nodded calmly. “Whatever happens out there is where it belongs. It has nothing to do with me. Now, I’m a teenager, about to go on her merry way to school, therefore I need lunch. Did you make it Olga or am I making it myself?”_

_Both women in front of me stared as if I had just pulled a harmonica out of my ear and started playing_ Ain’t No Mountain _whilst jumping up and down on one leg._

_“Criminy – finally!”_

_Hearing the low, booming rumble from the living room behind us, we all jumped in surprise. We turned in sync towards the cheering man, curious as to what his sudden excitement was about – this time, at least._

_Bob threw himself into his usual armchair, eyes glued to the TV showing two news anchors._

_I rose a brow. Since when was Bob excited to watch the news? Honestly, I’d just assumed that it was another commercial for his business he’d been trying to watch, but apparently not._

_. . . Had I entered some weird type of dimension? Where cats could talk, aliens decided to invade and Bob actually_ enjoyed _the news? I knew Bob, and I knew that he hated the news almost as much as Soap Operas. Hell, the only reason he watched it was to find new ways to complain about other people and compare their failures to his successes._

_Miriam set the spatula down on the bench and crossed the kitchen into the living room, bacon already forgotten. “What’d you find, B?” she asked, stopping besides his armchair. She watched the TV with curious eyes, appearing just as eager as Bob did._

_“Ooooh, Daddy – Daddy!” Olga managed to bump her shoulder into mine as she suddenly pushed past me to run to Bob’s unoccupied side. “Did you get it?!” Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she looked so excited that she might just burst._

_Bob smirked proudly. “Miriam, Olga – I just managed to find a half decent report on that hubbub last night.”_

_My heart dropped. What’d he say?_

_Olga let loose a high-pitched squeal. “Oh, Daddy, you’re an absolute genius!” She threw her arms around his neck, earning herself a small chuckle. “Now we’ll get to see her in action!”_

_I rolled my eyes. What an asskisser._

_Wait a minute. That last part suddenly hit me. ‘See her in_ action _?’_

_Okay, that does not sound like good news for me. I mean, I knew us Pataki weren’t a closely-knit family in the slightest – hell, ‘household’ described us more accurately than ‘family’ ever would. But, even if we weren’t close (excluding Olga, considering she had everyone’s hearts), who was to say they wouldn’t recognise me?_

_I mean, yeah, Helga looked nothing like Blue Jay (she didn’t even have the same voice), but with how long I’ve lived with this bunch, surely, they’d recognise something resembling me in her. Perhaps it would be my stance, attitude or even run. I don’t know, but considering they, biologically speaking, were my family, it didn’t seem unlikely they’d make a connection – right?_

_I shook my head. It didn’t matter. I’d have to prevent them from seeing that footage._

_Frowning, I placed my fists to my hips and glared at the small crowd around Bob’s chair. “Hey, what about my lunch? . . . can someone please–?”_

_“Miriam,” Bob’s beady eyes didn’t leave the TV as he addressed the middle-aged blonde next to him. “Get the girl her lunch, would’cha? Miriam – hey, Miriam!”_

_I almost facepalmed. Great going, Helga._

_Miriam jumped in surprise. “Huh?” She blinked, looking down at Bob then turning her eyes to me. Seeing me frown, she directed her attention back to the TV. “Oh, in a minute, honey. After this report, m’kay?”_

_I actually did facepalm that time._

_Okay, not the results I’d been hoping for._

_Attempt Prevent-Kind-Sorta-My-Family-From-Watching-Footage-Of-Me-As-A-Superhero 2# was now in action._

_Marching across the room, I stood defiantly in front of the TV with spread arms. Bob frowned and, in an attempt to watch the report, leaned to the side to make out whatever was happening. He gritted his teeth and glared at me, but I didn’t budge. Bob’s dirty looks were a regular occurrence, so they hardly rose any alarm anymore. “Listen, little missy, I don’t know what’s got you so wound tight, but whatever it is you’re going through, go through with it somewhere else! Can’t you see I’m tryna watch the report?”_

_“But, Dad–”_

_“No ‘buts’. Now, get outta the way so I can see what all the fuss is about!”_

_Silently, I glared at Bob. There was so much I wanted to say to him. Like the reason why I was ‘wound up’ was the very reason he was trying to watch the news. He probably thought it was typical ‘girl problems’ that involved boys, gossip, friends or something. I wish he was right – I wish that was all I was so angry about._

_I scowled and opened my mouth to yell at him–_

_“–the attack occurred early in the night at Tina Park,” the reporter’s voice pulled my attention and I found myself curiously looking over my shoulder. The two news anchors, a brunette female and redheaded male, sat at a desk as they directly addressed the camera. “The victim, Michael Buckley, had been walking home from his part time job at the Bowling Alley, when he was assaulted by an unidentified assailant.”_

_I snorted, turning to face the report. Assailant – yeah, good word._

_The scene of the two news anchors was replaced with shaky footage of a fight I was all too familiar with. I felt my body pale as I watched Blue Jay –_ me _– fight the deformed Mutant. The footage was awkward, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see what was happening. Some masked woman, in a ridiculous white bathing suit, was combating some type of monster._

_“Witnesses described the attacker as barbaric – a wild animal,” the news anchor reported over the flashing images. “However professional opinion is at loss as to what the figure truly is.”_

_I watched in awe as a blue light suddenly sprung into existence from my open palms and formed a protective wall. The Mutant’s fist collided with the wall, but I remained untouched, eyes blazing with perseverance. Pushing my arms forward sent the Mutant flying across the air. I was surprised upon seeing the look of pure determination on Blue Jay’s face as she climbed to her feet. Apparently, the camera hadn’t managed to catch my hesitance, fear or panic._

_I had to admit though – I looked a little badass. The rain fell in chaotic drops and the gusting wind carried my soaked hair. My fists were clenched by my sides, my eyes narrowed and my mouth pressed firmly together. Multiple gasps and murmurs came from the crowd, questioning what they’d all just witnessed._

_I actually . . . looked like a hero. Not some dumb, clueless teenager who’d only recently been recruited. No, a real her who knew what she was doing – a superhero._

_I couldn’t help feeling a little prideful. The way the crowd had spoken, how determined I’d looked, the sudden appearance of my powers – it was kinda hard not to feel the least bit satisfied. I mean, considering that this had been my first time fighting a Mutant and all, I’d think I’d done pretty good._

_“The victim, Mr. Buckley, was rushed to the Drymon Medical Clinic immediately after self-titled Blue Jay had exited the scene,” the female news anchor continued, “Despite his injuries, he remains there in a stable condition.”_

_I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I hadn’t stayed back long enough to learn of that man’s fate last night. I’d felt guilty that his life hadn’t occurred to me until I’d arrived home after the fight, but knowing that now he was doing fine made me feel better._

_I guess that . . . last night had been a success._

_“Wow,” I heard Olga breathe. Tearing my gaze from the screen, I looked over my shoulder; she looked positively thrilled with everything she’d just witnessed.  Her hands grasped tightly the arms of Bob’s chair as she grinned largely at screen. “Blue Jay looks positively magnificent on camera! Did you see that shield thingy? I wonder if she’s human, or perhaps some type of extra-terrestrial species, or a . . .”_

_As Olga continued to happily babble on to anyone listening, my gaze fell to the folded hands in my lap. Last night was a complete success . . . I mean, I’d defeated the monster, saved the damsel, avoided the authorities and become a hero – all on my first night._

_A smirk tugged at my lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all._

_“Hey, what’re you doin’ on the floor? C’mon, missy, you have school to go to!” I jumped upon hearing Bob’s thunderous voice aim at me. Looking up and meeting his frown, I realised that, at some point during the report, I’d sunken to my knees in shock without even realising it._

_A hand suddenly hung in front of my face._

_I blinked and looked up at the arm it belonged to, eventually reaching Olga’s gentle smile. I don’t why she was looking at me like this – as if she knew I was going through something, but didn’t know what it was. Like, whatever it was, she wanted to offer her support._

_For a moment, I was tempted to take her hand. To take the offer my sister extended towards me. But before my hand could touch hers, I remembered that, after living in this household for sixteen years, I didn’t need anyone’s help. I’d gotten through most of my life taking care of myself and I wasn’t about to change that now._

_Climbing to my feet, I purposely bumped my shoulder into Olga’s offered hand. I ignored her hurt look and brushed the invisible dust from my uniform. “I’ll make my own lunch,” I mumbled coolly to no one in particular._

_Not sparing another glance to them, I began making my way back to the kitchen, tightened fists swinging by my sides._

_It was as if a gigantic weight had just been lifted from my shoulder. The air seemed a little lighter and the pressure sitting on my chest had considerably lessened. That report, I realised, changed my perception of my new role as a Guardian._

_Watching the fight from another perspective, I saw how capable I was last night. Seeing how powerful I looked, how closely I resembled a hero, I felt a little more capable as a Guardian._

_Beginner or not, Nel (and, by extension, the pin) had sensed something in me that made me worthy of Guardianship. And, so far, it was only me she could sense it from, so I could only rely on my own strength to save people._

_And rely on my own strength I would._

* * *

“Helga, did you hear the news?!”

A hand slammed inches from my face. I jumped, clutching my heart, and spun around. “Jesus, Pheebs!” I gasped, horrified. “I’ve told you a million times to stop doing tha–”

I blinked at her disgruntled appearance. She was leaning forward over her knees, chest heaving as her shallow breaths came out raspy. I rose a brow at the thin sheet of sweat glistening on her forehead. Did she just finish running a marathon?

Eyes shinning with untamed excitement, Phoebe grinned as she stood to her full height. “No, I just wanted to get here early to talk to you about, oh – not much, except possibly the teeny-tiny little incident involving a _real life superhero battling a twelve-foot monster-alien thing!_ ”

Twelve foot? Huh, I’d counted seven. But to each her own.

Turning around, I smashed my forehead into my locker–

_Bang!_

Ouch, that fucking hurt.

I felt Phoebe jumping in surprise, looking at me alarmingly. Groaning, I closed my eyes in frustration. “You to?”

It seemed that I couldn’t escape _her_ name. Don’t get me wrong, I had no problem hearing people openly gush about me – none whatsoever. But with the way everyone spoke so highly of Blue Jay (I refuse to call her Wonder Woman), it felt as if the weight in my chest had tripled. Anytime someone uttered her name, it reminded me that, despite being a complete rookie, people viewed her with high expectations.

Hearing it from the mouths of strangers was bad enough. But coming from my best and only friend in the world, whom I also respected the opinion of? Sorry, but that was simply _too_ much.

“It’s just that–well–” I struggled to find the words to properly explain how I felt, without explaining it _too_ well. “I feel like– okay, so, one night this chick shows up and saves a guy. It was impressive – sure – and, y’know, only someone with massive intellect and strength could handle what she did–” What? It’s not like _that_ part of the rumours were wrong “–but . . . I just feel like everyone’s expectations o her are getting unrealistically high after only one night. What if . . . what if she can’t reach those expectations everyone suddenly has of her? What if she’s not nearly as good as people think . . . what if it was only a one-time thing?”

I hadn’t meant to confess so much. But somehow Phoebe managed to get me to spill my insecurities, even if she wasn’t aware of it. Like now, for instance.

Phoebe pursed her lips as she silently contemplated her answer. Then, with a cluck of her tongue, she opened her mouth. “Well, no one really knows who this girl is, Helga – she could be anyone. I mean, just walking down the halls I heard people calling her some type of Russian spy,” she chuckled quietly, shaking her head at the ridiculous theory. I wrinkled my nose distastefully, adding yet _another_ speculation to the growing list. “Anyway, the point is that whoever this girl is – she saved us last night. That thing she fought, it didn’t look like it could be taken down by a regular gun, so I sincerely doubt it could’ve been taken down by anyone but her. To me, Blue Jay represents a protection that we ourselves can’t provide.”

I was taken back by her lengthy response. I turned to face my best friend with wide eyes. “You,” I spoke slowly, “truly believe that?”

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and shot a confused look. She probably didn’t understand why I valued her opinion so highly, but with a nod I urged her to answer. “Uh, yeah?” She laughed shakily as she rubbed her neck. “There’s just something about her that makes me feel, erm, secure . . . there’s almost this sense of sense of familiarity, like I know her.  But that’s crazy, right?”

My brain shot into overdrive as, for a moment, all I could hear were sirens. She felt as if– did some part of Phoebe know that Blue Jay was _me?_

. . . No. No, of course not. She said she felt a sense of familiarity from Blue Jay. That didn’t automatically mean she knew that Blue Jay and I were the same person. I knew I wouldn’t believe it if I were her.

The silence began to stretch uncomfortably. I cracked a shaky smile. “You sound like such a fangirl, Pheebs,” I teased.

Phoebe tried to look irritated, but the smile won that battle. “Hey!” She giggled, playfully elbowing me in the ribs.

“Ahh! How you wound me, fiend!” Rubbing my side, I screwed up my face in mock pain. “Doth thou not realiseith how strongith thou areith?”

Rolling her eyes, Phoebe hugged her books to her chest. “You’re such a dork, H,” she muttered.

I grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Guess that makes me _your_ dork, geek.”

Staring at one another, we burst into a puddle of laughter, superheroes and monsters forgotten.

“Are you seriously serious, Rhonda?!”

Both Phoebe and I froze, laughter halting, and looking in the direction of that high-pitched voice. I rolled my eyes when we found ourselves looking at the cheerleader’s corner. Criminy, how did we always end up hearing their conversations? Either Pheebs and I were quiet, or they were way too loud. Personally, I believed the latter.

The voice came from head cheerleader, Nathalie. She was a beautiful girl, with golden brown skin and long, dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place. Nathalie was pressed against her locker, facing (the only and only) Rhonda.

Nathalie looked genuinely put off with whatever Rhonda had said, who ignored the offended look her friend gave her and reached into her locker. “Yes,” Rhonda sighed dramatically, standing up with her Home Economics textbook grasped in her hand. “I’m seriously serious, Nat. I don’t like that Mockingjay thing or whatever.”

I rose a brow. Mockingjay? Were they talking about what I think they’re talking about?

Exchanging a glance with Phoebe, she simply shrugged and shook her head, showing her own confusion in what the debate was about.

“It’s _Blue Jay_ ¸ Rhonda,” Nathalie corrected with a roll of her eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Well, why should I?” Rhonda shrugged dismissively. Running a hand through her silky strands, she looked almost bored with the conversation. “Okay, so she killed that monster thing last night. But did you see how she did it? She threw a knife – and everyone’s acting as if she cured cancer. Big deal, she stabbed the thing. If the police had gotten there on time, I bet my life they could’ve shot the thing and killed it just as easily. And they most certainly wouldn’t have just left that guy there without so much of a glance his way. Did you see how she left? Not a hint of concern for anyone. Didn’t ask if anyone was injured, or check on the guy – just introduced herself and left. It’s not poetic, as everyone seems to think. She’s just taking credit for the cops’ jobs and running around in an extremely tacky leotard.”

Whoa.

I guess little miss Princess _could_ use that teeny-tiny brain of hers. I was shocked, honestly. I thought she paid people to do her thinking for her.

A smile tugged at my lips, but vanished when I realised that, as much as I disliked her, Rhonda was right – ugh, it sickens me to even _think_ it. But I hadn’t shown concern for anyone else but myself and most certainly hadn’t stayed to check up on anyone.

Biting my lip, I looked to Phoebe. Her narrowed eyes remained on the two cheerleaders, her lips pressed together and her pale hands tightly wringing at each other. I knew that Phoebe wanted to march over to Rhonda and defend Blue Jay. She wanted to prove that Blue Jay wasn’t stealing the cops’ jobs. But I knew Phoebe – and how painstakingly shy she was.

Phoebe may have grown since elementary school, she may act vibrant and optimistic with her friends, but, when it came to anyone else, she was still that same shy, little girl. Sweet as a flower, she wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone debate with one of the Queens of Hillwood High over something as ridiculous as a one-time superhero dressed as a Victoria’s Secret model. That just wasn’t Phoebe.

Still, I could see how much it tore her inside. For whatever reason, Phoebe really admired Blue Jay. I couldn’t understand why, and honestly I’m not even sure if _she_ really knew why. A tiny voice told me that it was because a part of her recognised Blue Jay. I didn’t like that thought, so I shook my head of it.

Whatever it was, Phoebe was upset with Rhonda’s points. So, placing a hand on her shaking shoulders, I softly smiled at her. Slowly, a small smile spread along her face, but it didn’t feel genuine.

If only Phoebe Heyerdahl knew that the superhero she admired so much as right by her side, comforting her.

The thought almost sent me into a set of laughter. Seeing my amused grin, Phoebe tilted her head and blinked up at me. But before either of us could exchange any words, the familiar ring of the school bell buzzed through the crowded hallways, immediately drowned out by a chorus of groans.

Phoebe and I both smiled apologetically. “Algebra,” I answered, even if she hadn’t verbally asked.

“Biology,” Phoebe shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Lunch today?” I asked hopefully. The chances were low, but I really wanted Phoebe to make it today. Especially today, in fact. Being with Phoebe almost made me forget about this superhero business. I didn’t feel like a Guardian with the fate of her town – _planet,_ at that – resting solely on her shoulders. I felt like a teenager girl whose biggest concern was that overdue homework she hadn’t bothered finishing, or getting through P.E. in one piece. I didn’t feel any pressure, instead I could just joke and tease my best friend without a care.

Phoebe smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” she apologised. My shoulders dipped, but I tightly pressed my lips together. “It’s Math today. I should be able to sometime this week, though.”

Clenching my jaw, I plastered a shaky smile and nodded my head. “Yeah, right – of course . . . so, I’m guessing we can’t make up for our loss of Sundae Monday, can we?”

It was stupid to ask – I already had a busy afternoon. But I couldn’t stop myself.

Phoebe shook her head. “Maybe next week, Helga,” she suggested, looking somewhat doubtful to what she was saying.

I sighed. Looks like we’d be missing yet another Sundae Monday. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d actually gone. Phoebe’s busy schedule prevented her from doing much of anything with me anymore.

And now, I realised, there was even less of a chance of it happening any time soon. My sudden role as a Guardian more or less would be the death of it.

* * *

It was during Algebra that my lack of sleep began to catch up with me.

As usual, Mrs. Brown’s lecture remained agonizingly long, so really, given my distaste for her and Algebra, I could hardly be blamed for only slightly nodding off. Yes, only slightly. I mean, it’s not like I actually fell asleep. Sure, my eyes may have managed to slip shut, my pencil may have fallen and my head may have dropped to the desk, but that didn’t actually mean I was sleeping. I simply was giving my body a brief rest, thank you very much. Not sleeping at all.

Not that Mrs. Brown believed me. As soon as my eyes had fluttered shut, she shrieked banshee-like screams at me. You see, if you haven’t realised already, Mrs. Brown was never one of my biggest fans, given the lack of enthusiasm I had for her lessons. So, I could only imagine the immense satisfaction she felt when she sent me out of class.

And, yeah, I was obviously pissed that, yet again, Mrs. Brown had humiliated me in front of the class – I shan’t even mention who specifically sat in the room with a perfectly clear view of my embarrassed, red cheeks – a part of me was slightly _grateful_. Standing out in the hallway, waiting for her to come out and lecture me, my mind was simply to active to fall asleep again. Standing up, at least. Not sleeping meant one less nightmare. Even when my eyes had briefly shut during class, that Mutant’s menacing smile was there to greet me.

“Hey, Helga.”

I jumped, jerking my head up from my clumsily tied shoelaces, and turned to glare at the person who’d dare to socialise with me. I almost groaned when my eyes landed on the unfortunately beautiful face of Lila Sawyer, beaming innocently at me. Ugh, someone please kill me now. I really didn’t have the patience for little Ms. Perfect right now.

Said perfect specimen stepped forward, blue eyes twinkling with amusement at my reaction. I returned it with a flat look, which of course she remained ignorant to. “You feeling alright?”

I raised a brow, confused. “Um, yeah.”

Turning my attention to the basketball game currently taking place on the courts, I prayed that she’d get the hint. I figured if I didn’t pay Lila any attention, she’d realise I had no interest in continuing this pointless conversation and – one could only hope – leave.

The courts were mostly occupied by the boys, as usual, while the majority of the girls stood on the sidelines, chatting amongst themselves. Fortunately, Ms. Ainsley was in a much better mood today. Whatever issues she was having with her boyfriend, they didn’t seem to be nearly as bad today, if the coral shade of lipstick she wore said anything. So, today she had no problem with the majority of us standing by the side. Ms. Ainsley herself stood along the sidelines, clutching her clipboard so tightly her knuckles were white, barking out orders to each of the teams, giving them a thorough lecture on how shit they were doing.

 . . . I said she was in a better mood, not a good one.

My pulse began racing in my ears when I spotted a familiar blonde, football-headed boy zipping up the court. I watched as he moved with the grace of a cheetah up and down the court, his muscles rippling and glistening with sweat.

Biting my lip, I held back a dreamy sigh, resisting the urge to swoon as I followed his movements. I don’t understand how someone could remain so amazing, so perfect. Arnold truly was a magnificent work of art – a masterpiece.

“It’s just that you were acting kinda weird on the bus today,” Lila continued, apparently not picking up on my disinterest in her and her conversation. Scowling, I turned to glower at her, which of course she ignored. “You kept blushing and just up and left. I was ever so worried that perhaps we had made you uncomfortable or something . . . and not to mention that atrocious occurrence in Algebra today . . .”

Oh, boy.

Cheeks heated, I pushed myself off from the wall and turned my back on the chattering redhead. “No. I’m fine,” I muttered dismissively as I walked away.

Not that I regularly gave a damn, but at this point any issues with being perceived as rude were instantly chucked out the window. I did not want to have this conversation (any conversation, in fact) with the girl of Arnold’s dreams, thank you very much.

For a very hopeful moment, I thought that maybe, perhaps, I had actually managed to ditch her. But the bouncing of her shoes alerted me that no, she was, in fact, following me.

I actually did sigh this time. Dreams will remain dreams.

Deciding that I’d had enough of the persistent redhead, I spun around to look her in the eye. She jumped back in surprise, tiny hands held out in defence, but didn’t show any chances of backing down. I rose a brow, honestly surprised by how determined she was. Annoying as Lila was, it was a little admirable. Still, as I’ve stated before, I had no interest in being buddy-buddy with this girl. “Lila, what do you want?”

There. That should tell her plain as day that I didn’t want to talk to her. If not by my tone, then my blunt demand. My disregard of her was so obvious that any idiot could pick up on it.

Lila furrowed her eyebrows. “To see if you’re alright,” she answered, placing her hands on her hips and taking a step forward. “I’m not sure if you were there last night, but it’s alright to admit what has you ever so shaken. It was ever so frightening, after all.”

. . . Huh?

I blinked owlishly at her. “What?”

What the hell was she babbling about?

“Well,” she straightened up, a proud smile tugging at her lips. I realised with horror that by asking I’d just provoked this dumb conversation to go on for even longer. “You’ve been acting weird today. I know you’re shy and keep to yourself, but you actually spoke up on the bus. About Blue Jay, nonetheless. Also, you’ve been acting quite odd whenever she was mentioned, so I figured that whatever you’re going through must have something to do with her. I didn’t see you last night, but you could’ve been there, and–”

Blah, blah, blah, blah. God, could this girl clearly not see that I didn’t want to talk to her? I didn’t even like her. I knew Lila wasn’t particularly observant, but c’mon, even a blind and deaf man could tell I didn’t think too highly of little Ms. Perfect.

A sharp whistling suddenly rang in my ears. Lila’s words were lost as several other voices drowned her out.

“–look out–!”

“–Lila, move–!”

“–get out of the way–!”

I stepped in front of Lila, roughly pushing her out of the way (interrupting her one-sided conversation) and stretched out my arm in front of me.

_THWACK!_

I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezing shut, when something slapped unforgivingly into my palm. There were multiple gasps (the loudest from behind me), then a beat of silence.

My palm stung as my fingers attempted to wrap themselves around whatever I held in my hand. The round object, I realised, was much bigger then my hand.

Slowly opening my eyes, I realised that said object was the basketball the team had been playing with.

My eyes flew in the direction of the courts, where the game, now absent of the ball, had stopped. It was almost comical how in sync everybody looked as they gaped at me. I almost fell over laughing at how taken back Gerald, of all people, appeared. But, as it turned out, given the circumstances I wasn’t in a very laughing mood. Glancing over my shoulder at Lila, who also stared jaw slacked at me, I realised at once what had just happened.

And I was not happy.

“Would you buckos please watch how you’re freakin’ playing?!” I snapped, glaring heatedly at the players. “You could’ve hurt someone, idiots!”

Irritation burned my skin when they showed no signs of hearing me. Their attention seemed to be held elsewhere because no one was even looking at me. No, instead their eyes had shifted from me to my hand and, at this point, they all looked beyond astounded. Appalled, really.

I frowned in confusion and looked to my left hand.

. . . and felt my jaw drop.

Sometime while I’d been yelling at blockheads that called themselves basketball players, my hand, on it’s own accord, had flipped the ball and balanced it on one finger, expertly spinning it on the tip.

My jaw fell. When the hell had I learnt to do _that?_ Only the most skilled basketball players could do that. So, how could _I?_ I wasn’t even left-handed . . .

My eyes unintentionally locked with Arnold’s. His jaw had dropped as he watched me flabbergasted. Beside him, Gerald looked as if I had just pulled a zebra from my pocket. I could imagine both their minds trying desperately to connect the dots and causing a malfunctioning short circuit.

I blinked.

It was quiet as everyone tried making sense of what they were witnessing. Not only had Helga G. Pataki saved Lila with reflexes quick enough to rival the Flash’s, but now stood in the middle of the court, spinning a basketball on the tip of her finger, despite previously having no skill or interest in the sport.

I clenched my jaw. Well, enough was enough.

Taking the ball back into my palm, I carelessly launched it over my shoulder towards the court. “Watch where you’re throwing it, next time!” I barked, before turning to Lila. The redhead’s wide eyes blinked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. “You okay?”

Her mouth opened and formed a failed reply, but nothing came out. Shutting her mouth, she jerked her head up and down. Nodding in reply, I turned and began walking away–

–when I heard sharp gasps from every part of the Gym, followed shortly by a _thwack!_

Looking over my shoulder, I drew in a shocked breath as my eyes settled on the basketball currently dancing along the ring of the net. It hunt on the edge for a brief moment, then dipped through the ring and bounced squarely on the wooden floor.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Seconds were passing but no one said a thing. No one knew exactly what to say – I sure as hell didn’t. I was still questioning how the fuck I managed to do any of that. I knew that, when I’d been younger, I was much bigger on sports, but that wasn’t now and I most certainly had never been that good, especially without trying.

Had that been my Guardian reflexes? Had that been Blue Jay?

Spinning on my heels, I stomped my way towards the doors. Now was a marvellous time for a bathroom break and I really could care less about getting a pass from Ms. Ainsley.

“Helga! Hey, Helga!”

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Could this girl not take a hint?

I gritted my teeth exasperatedly. I had just managed to escape through the Gym doors when Lila called out to me.

Maybe if I don’t look, she would think I hadn’t heard her and give up.

Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Keeping my eyes down, I stalked down the hallway. I’d managed to take three steps, when–

“Hey, Helga! Wait up!”

Jiminy cricket, was this girl stupid?

I let loose a frustrated breath as her frantic footsteps came closer. I reluctantly paused in my tracks. There clearly was no point in continuing to ignore her. Clearly, when it came to Lila, none of that was gonna help me. She was just too stupid and, for whatever reason, determined to talk to me.

Could my day get any worse?

“What?” I snapped, looking straight ahead. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know she stood only a few feet behind me.

. . . until she suddenly jumped in front of me, beaming. I jumped back in surprise, taking a couple steps backwards. “How’d you do that?” Lila demanded eagerly, taking another step closer. “I never knew you had such impressive skills, Helga!”

I could feel my cheeks heating. “I–I don’t,” I stuttered. I avoided her gaze by looking in another direction. “I haven’t played basketball in years.”

None of that was a lie in the slightest. I hadn’t played basketball in years. The only reason I did that back there was because of Blue Jay.

Apparently, my answer was enough to further excite Lila. “Really?” Her whole face lit up as she tucked her fists under her chin. “Well, that was ever so impressive, Helga.”

“Thanks.”

Under ordinary circumstance, I would gladly take Lila’s compliments, but given those skills weren’t actually mine . . .

Her grin shifted into a look of genuine curiosity.  “But, Helga, if you wouldn’t mind me asking,” she placed her index finger to the corner of her mouth, “where did you exactly learn such talent?”

“I would also like to know the answer to that question, Pataki.”

We both jumped at the new voice and swung around in it’s direction. I could’ve smacked myself upon seeing who it was.

Of course.

Of fucking course – it was Ms. Ainsley. Why the hell wouldn’t it be?

Ms. Ainsley stood leaning up against the closed Gym doors, foot pressed against the wall and arms crossed tightly over her chest. The corner of her mouth was turned up and her brow raised arrogantly. I gaped, taking in the image of my P.E. teacher attempting to appear cool. She looked like one of those leather-wearing, smoking bad boys in those old chick flicks Olga loved so much.

“So,” she spoke in a particularly low voice. “What is it, Pataki? Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

Great – great. Now I had the joys of lying to my Lila _and_ P.E. teacher.

. . . actually, I’ve lied to worse.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh, here and there,” I mirrored Ms. Ainsley’s actions and crossed my arms, avoiding both their stares.

Good, Pataki, that’s good. Act like you don’t care (which, really, you don’t), and give open, ambiguous answers. You should be out of the pain in no time.

Ms. Ainsley nodded curtly. “Impressive, nonetheless, Pataki,” she admitted, plucking her chin with a thoughtful expression.

I didn’t like it. Not one bit. The look she wore was one of scheming.

Perhaps now was a good time to leave.

“Um,” I shot a glance over my shoulder then back at Ms. Ainsley and Lila. Well, moreso Lila then Ms. Ainsley. She was giving me an extremely uncomfortable look that told me she was aware that I wanted to leave. Lile, on the other hand, watched Ms. Ainsley with alarm. Couldn’t blame her, really. “Anyway, I’m just gonna go to the bathroo–”

“You know, we have a free spot on the basketball team,” Ms. Ainsley interrupted, pushing herself off the wall and stepping forward. Lila and I both instantly stepped back, keeping as much distance from our scheming P.E. teacher as we could.

Well done, Pataki. Now you’re out of the pan and into the god damned fire.

“Um, actually–”

“I wasn’t aware,” Lila interjected, blinking curiously. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms behind her torso and tilted her head, “that there was an open spot on the basketball team, Ms. Ainsley.”

Ms. Ainsley gave a half shrug. “There isn’t,” she answered. She gestured towards me with a nod. “However, I’m willing to change that if we had someone as talented as Pataki over there.”

In sync, Lila’s and my jaw dropped. “You mean,” I said, unable to comprehend what my P.E. teacher was implying, “that you would–?”

“–kick someone off the team,” Lila finished the question I found myself to baffled to ask, “just to make room for Helga?”

Ms. Ainsley remained oblivious to our trepidation and rose her chin proudly in the air. “Yes,” she grinned ecstatically. “Aren’t I ever so generous?”

Lila managed a shaky smile. “Well, I–”

“Super, Ms. A,” I lied flatly, not bothering to smile. “Can I go–?”

“Excellent,” Ms. Ainsley interrupted with a wide grin, holding up her fingers to tick off points. “Practises are Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays after school, sometimes we meet up for weekends and–”

“Um,” I stared at the short-haired blonde in shock. _When_ had I agreed to joining the basketball team? “Hold on. I never actually said I was _playing_!”

Ms. Ainsley stared, her mouth hanging. Even Lila seemed taken back with my decision. “ . . . _what?_ ”

“Sorry, Coach,” I shrugged. “I just don’t have time to be on the team.”

Not a lie, by the way. I mean, becoming Blue Jay hardly left me time for really anything anymore. _Sleep_ was hard enough but extracurriculars would be impossible.

The air suddenly became tense. And heavy. And quiet. Disturbingly quiet.

Stomach squirming, I shifted my weight awkwardly. Ms. Ainsley looked at me in surprise, her mouth wide enough for a bird to fly in and set up it’s nest. Her wires seemed to be short circuiting at the mere _thought_ of someone _declining_ an offer to join the team. Most people, after all, who showed potential were swept under her wing, if not for their love of the sport, then from fear of facing an enraged Ms. Ainsley. The image of sparks sprouting out in the shape of horns almost made me laugh.

Almost.

May I remind you that it’d quite hard to laugh when you find yourself staring death in the face. Or, in this case, your very tall and aggressive P.E. teacher in an _abandoned_ hallway (Lila does not count. That girl couldn’t harm a fly, ergo she was useless . . . hmm, maybe I could use her as a shield and chuck her at Ms. Ainsley to get a head start when she loses it).

“WHAT?!”  
Lila and I both jumped when Ms. Ainsley let out a terrifying, nails-on-a-chalkboard shriek. I swear, I heard several sneakers screeching to a halt and numerous gasps from behind the closed Gym doors.

I gulped, suddenly aware that I had just angered someone _well_ over my height (she was _at least_ six foot). Of course, given how brave I was, especially now that I was a Guardian, I made the courageous decision to slip behind Lila, gripping tightly onto her shoulders and ducking my head. The redhead shot me an exasperated look, but turned back to the severely angered P.E. teacher glaring at us (namely _me_ ).

“I’m sorry,” I squeaked (yes, I regret to say, I _did_ actually squeak), taking another step back and frailly smiling. “But, like I said, I’m pretty much always busy no–”

“With _what_?!” She demanded, her (suddenly gigantic-looking) fists digging into her hips. She raised a dark eyebrow, challenging me to give a straight and reasonable answer.

And quite frankly I don’t think I could actually give her one. I mean, for starters there’s no way Ms. Ainsley would ever believe my purpose for not joining (besides the fact that I didn’t _want_ to). ‘Sorry, Ms. A, I can’t join your basketball team, as I’m already quite busy secretly running around as a masked superhero named Blue Jay. You know, the mysterious girl dressed in a ridiculous leotard that looked more like a bikini model. Yup, that’s the one. So, I’m sorry, as it seems that I quite honestly do not have the time.’ Yeah, I feel as if she wouldn’t quite believe that. And, even if she did, I doubt Nel would be too happy that I was telling people, much less my P.E. teacher.

So, obviously my occupation as a teen superhero was not gonna make a reasonably excuse. Which begged the question, what the hell should I be telling her? What the hell _could_ I even tell her? I knew if my excuse wasn’t good enough, it would only make my P.E. lessons more nightmarish then they already were. I knew Ms. Ainsley. And, honestly, I feared her.

Lila also watched me curiously. I could imagine her wondering what the hell I, Helga G. Pataki, could possible be doing that made it difficult for me to join the team.

“Um, just, y’know,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “ _Stuff_.”

Lila’s eyebrows rose. “Stuff?”

“Stuff?” Ms. Ainsley lifted a brow sceptically.

“Stuff,” I confirmed with a nod. Raising my chin, I forced myself to meet Ms. Ainsley’s eyes.

. . . and, let me tell you, she did not look happy. Her chin had dipped low into her collarbone and, from underneath her choppy bangs, her glare pierced straight through me. “What type,” she spoke slowly, through gritted teeth, “of _stuff?_ ”

I cleared my throat and silently prayed for whatever remained of last night’s courage. “You know . . . _stuff,_ ” I shrugged ‘nonchalantly’ to show her I was no, in fact, scared. I don’t think I fooled her or Lila in the slightest, but it was worth a shot. “Anyways, I’m sorry, Coach, but I’m way too busy for–”

“Can’t you quit your ‘stuff’’?” Ms. Ainsley urged desperately. Suddenly her glare disappeared as she attempted a, I think, a puppy dog plea. I gaped. I knew Ms. Ainsley was emotional and, well, _weird_ , but I didn’t know she was straight up _bipolar_. She stepped forward and, once again, Lila and I stepped back. She clasped her hands together as she bit her bottom lip and ‘twinkled’ her eyes. Her puppy dog plea was completely lost on the both of us, however, given it was kinda hard to sympathise with your _teacher._ And _Ms. Ainsley_ at that. “ _Please?_ ”

“I’m sorry,” I responded quickly. “But I just don’t have the time.”

It was silently again.

 _Tensely_ so.

Lila and I watched with interest (and fear, don’t forget that) as Ms. Ainsley tried to comprehend someone declining her offer to become a part of the team. Her mouth continually opened and closed, no words coming out. Her glazed eyes fell to the floor, staring at nothing in particular, as her fists clenched and unclenched.

I rose a brow. Was she going into some type of shock?

Ms. Ainsley suddenly dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together in a prayer formation. “Please,” her voice came out in a hoarse, broken whisper. “I’m . . . I’m begging you!”

Her whisper raised into a loud scream and both Lila and I jumped in surprise.

Ms. Ainsley didn’t care for our fearful response and continued. “You don’t understand, Pataki! You’re the only real talent I’ve come across in this fat lump of a school! Have you _seen_ that low down, sorry excuse for a team? Bunch of wimps and crybabies, I tell you! Would know a basketball if it hit ‘em in the face – I’ve tried! They’re the most talentless sons of bitches I’ve ever seen! Why do you think we haven’t won any games?

“But, with you in the team–” her demented eyes twinkled with sadistical glee as the corners of her mouth stretched up to her ears, in a way that reminded me of the Joker, “we . . . we might actually win! Yes! HA-HA! We could win! Yes! You, Pataki, may have the talent to win us the first game since I was cursed with these pathetic piles of putrid pussy-ass pus! MWAHAHAHAHA!”

. . . Lila and I both stood there, motionless, as our P.E. teacher suddenly transformed into the world’s cheesiest (yet, oddly scariest) supervillain. A small part of my brain registered that, at some point during Ms. Ainsley’s monologue, Lila and I had wrapped our arms around one another and now stood shivering, cheek-to-cheek. But that small part of my brain was overwhelmed by the waves of fear crashing over me. _What_ happened to Ms. Ainsley?

_BRIIIING!_

“HEY, PATAKI! GET BACK HERE!”

The doors to the numerous classrooms lining along the corridor hadn’t even opened before Lila and I made a mad dash down the hall for our next classes.

I don’t think, ever in my life, I’d be so eager to get to French.

* * *

I swear, I was never going to another P.E. lesson again.

I don't care if it involved me suddenly coming up with ridiculously over-the-top illness every time P.E. showed up on my timetable, I was not, _repeat: was not_ , stepping one foot into that Gym again. Hell, maybe I should straight up switch schools. It'd certainly be easier. After all, even if I had to say goodbye to my dear friend Phoebe, at least I wouldn't have to constantly be looking over my shoulder for any signs of a tall, blonde psychopath with a booming voice and meaty fists.

You see, after I had booted it out of the hallway, away from _her_ , Ms. Ainsley had apparently made it her personal mission to seek me out and win me over to her dumb Basketball team. Currently, she was searching the entire grounds for me, including my usual table where I ate my lunch in solitude.

Hence why I currently stood _here._

Here being the school roof - alone. Of course, the school roof wasn't that bad of a spot to eat lunch. Roughly, it was the same size as the cafeteria, if not bigger. The bright, clear skies and gentle, streaming sunlight were both extremely welcoming. Even if the sunlight had practically burnt my eyes when I'd first climbed up the steps here.

The roof was enclosed with a chain-linked fence that reached my waist. I was leaned against the fence, sipping on a juice box I'd packed this morning, my chin rested in my palm. My eyes were trained on the world below me - the school fields, the guys playing football and the numerous groups of teenagers eating their lunches together.

My glance fell on the hunched figure of Ms. Ainsley stalking up to some of the football players. She was barking at them, probably demanding where her saviour Pataki was. Each of the footballers shook their head, looking shaken even from up _here_ , and Ms. Ainsley let out a frustrated breath before turning to stomp off in another direction.

I let loose a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding and turned to look up at the clear sky. Reaching behind me, I slowly traced my hand to the back of my head and ran my fingers through my hair, tracing my fingers over the skin, searching for a certain patch. I hissed out in pain when I touched a sensitive spot, _the_ spot I'd injured last night.

The spot had been from when the Mutant had thrown me last night. It'd not only left behind a stinging bruise, but also a large lump. Thankfully, Nel had explained that it would eventually heal itself, if not by today, then definitely by tomorrow.

In fact, Nel had explained _a lot_ last night.

* * *

" _Criminy," my jaw dropped as I took in the beautiful face that stared back at me from inside the mirror. Turns out, the face underneath the mask was even more beautiful then I had imagined. Her almond-shaped eyes were a piercing shade of blue and framed with thick, dark lashes. The golden waves of hair, stained with dark spots of crimson, rained down her back and, despite how cool the room was, her skin glistened with sweat. A bright patch of pink shone on her right cheek and a tiny cut resided on her perfectly-shaped pink lips. Somehow, despite the bruises running up and down her arms, the girl remained an ethereal beauty._

 _As the seconds ticked by and my eyes examined the girl, I found it harder to accept that that beauty standing in the mirror was_ me _._

_Technically._

" _Shit, I look hot," I mumbled to myself in shock. Turning around, my eyes widened when they zeroed in on my backside. I couldn't believe it - I actually had an ass. "Jiminey Cricket," my jaw dropped, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "I actually have an ass - criminy!"_

_Because, as Helga, my figure had as many curves as an arrow._

_My admiring of my new body was cut short when, uncomfortably, someone cleared their throat. Rolling my eyes, I threw a quick, careless look over my shoulder. Nel sat perched delicately on my bed, a paw to her mouth (at this point, I have given up questioning her human-like behaviour), giving me an impatient look that pleaded for my admiration to end. "If you are_ quite _done focusing on such trivial things, Helga," she frowned up at me. "I would very much like to continue explaining your new role as a Guardian."_

_Rolling my eyes, I turned away from the mirror to fully face the feline on my bed. Trust Nel to be a stick in the mud and get down straight to business. "Gee, Nel, sorry and all," my tone was dry and suggested I was anything but sorry. I threw my hands up in exasperation. "But, c'mon, did you see me out there? I totally rocked. Better yet, I was amazing! I mean, this morning, my biggest task was gettin' to the bus stop in time. Now? I'm a freakin' superhero. Move over, Superman! There's a new hero in town! Oh my God, this is so awesome! Why didn't this happen to me years ago? Imagine all the things I can do with these-"_

" _Are you quite done yet?" Nel's ears pulled back against her head as she shot up to her feet. She gave me a dirty look both showed her disgust and disappointment. "I cannot believe how selfish you are being right now."_

_I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "Hey," I objected defensively. "I thought I surprised you. What the heck crawled up your butt?"_

_Nel's eyes narrowed at the question I directed at her. "You are treating your duties as a Guardian as if they were a toy," she hissed. "A man almost died not an hour ago, along with those dozens of innocent civilians that watched you, and you have the nerve to treat your destiny as a Guardian as if it were a joke? You surprise me, Helga."_

_I gritted my teeth and tightened the grip I had on my biceps. I hated to admit it, but Nel had a point. Not that I would ever verbally admit to that, but she was right. I hadn't given it single thought that someone, someone other then_ me _, could've lost their life man the monster had locked in its grasp, the one that had been dropped so carelessly to the ground once the monster had set its eyes on me . . . I didn't even know if he was still alive. I hadn't stayed back long enough to check._

_He hadn't even crossed my mind until now. I'd been to busy focusing on my cool, new powers and becoming a popular superhero._

_My stomach sank._

_That felt low, even for me._

_I cleared my throat and raised my chin high in the air. Meeting Nel's burning gaze, I refused to show her how I truly felt and gave her a hardened look of my own. "Alright, alright, alright - I got it. I'm sorry, okay?" I waved a dismissive hand in the air and spoke half-heartedly. But I meant it. Unable to meet Nel's disappointed look any longer, I spun around with my hands planted on my hips and looked up at the ceiling. "Anyways, how do I, uh, change back?"_

" _Oh," Nel blinked in surprise, seemingly realising that it was Blue Jay and not Helga she was talking to. "Right, of course. It's simple. Place your hand flat against your chest plate, close your eyes and focus on the image of yourself as your usual self." I obeyed with a nod, closing my eyes and placing a hand to the golden bird pinned to my chest. "Think of the what you had been wearing, how you had worn your hair, how-"_

" _Alright, alright, I got it, geez," I interrupted, waving my left hand carelessly in the air. Man, could this cat talk. "No need to chat my ear off, Nel."_

_I could feel the heat of her scowling burn my shoulders and a shiver ran down my spine. Shaking my head free of that knowledge, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and remembered what I had looked like before this entire fiasco. I remembered the school uniform I had been wearing; the black hoodie I wore underneath my to-small-blazer the grey checkered skirt that reached my knees, my dirty blonde pigtails, my stained white socks-_

_I gasped. A familiar warmth pulsed through my veins. I made sure to keep my eyes shut, despite the curiosity begging me to take a peek. My heart thundered in my ears and my body felt as if it would suddenly burst with the energy that surged through it._

_Then, suddenly, it was gone. The feeling of absolute power, the warmth that made my heart sing, was absent and I was stuck feeling cold, weak and almost delicate._

_The waves of nausea that hit me showed up almost immediately. The world began spinning and I felt as if the ground beneath my feet was shifting. The buzzing once in my head was gone, instead replaced with a throbbing sensation._

_I clutched my head in an effort to control the pounding. Not that it did me much good. I groaned, why did I suddenly feel so bad?_

_Nel coughed almost sheepishly, ducking her head as if to avoid my eyes. "Uh, yes, I forgot to mention that," she admitted. "At first, when transforming back, you may feel a little strained-"_

" _A little?" I looked up from where I gripped the edge of my desk to keep my legs from giving in. I was completely baffled as to why Nel would choose to mention this to me_ now _._

_Scrunching up my face, I gave her the ugliest look I could muster at the given moment._

_Nel rolled her eyes. "Yes, a little. However, given some time, I'd imagine you'd get quite used to it."_

_This cat, I noted with a roll of my own eyes, was to British for her own good._

_Suddenly, the words she had just spoken registered in my mind and I immediately shot up from my slumped position against the desk, dizziness be damned._

_Crap, I mentally cursed, mind momentarily askew. Now she's got me talking like a Brit._

" _Whoa, whoa - hold up! Time out! Who said this was gonna be a regular thing?"_

_Nel's eyes widened in shock. "Helga, you cannot be serious."_

" _Oh, yes, I am, sister. Quite, in fact," Huffing, I wrapped my arms tightly across my chest, poking my nose into the air. "I mean, for cripes sake, I'm only sixteen! And, you expect me to go around, fighting monsters, just because some weirdly British, talking black cat told me to? No, thank you."_

" _But, if you don't," Nel insisted through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing into another glare, "then_ who _will?"_

 _I shrugged. "You said there were three other Guardians. Why don't you find them and make_ them _fight?"_

" _I would, but I don't know who they are yet!" Nel snapped, her purple eyes hard-rimmed and fixed. I was taken back by how furious she sounded. Don't get me wrong, Nel, so far, hasn't shown many other emotions towards me other then anger, frustration and disappointment, but now she seemed downright livid. My surprise at her sudden spout of anger must've been obvious, because Nel, after closing her eyes, took in three large breaths to calm herself down. After the third, she slowly opened her eyes again, looking almost ashamed at her previous manner. "Listen, Helga, if I were able to, I'd choose someone else to fight these monsters - someone older and experienced. However, I do not have the power to do that. I can only_ find _Guardians, I cannot create them. It pains me to have to thrust such a responsibility onto someone so young. However, I am not in a position to overlook your potential. If I could,_ I _would take your position, Helga, but I cannot. However, I can assure you that I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're properly equipped and trained to defeat these monsters . . . I promise you."_

 _For once, I was at loss for words. I didn't know how to react to Nel's bold declaration. To many conflicting thoughts swarm around in my mind. On one hand, I didn't_ want _to have to risk my life every night to fight these_ things _. I didn't wanna have someone's life in my hands. I could barely catch the bus on time, let alone protect a whole of city of defenseless people. Why couldn't it be left up to someone else to do it? As Nel said, someone more experienced, older and intelligent. It felt like it'd been one giant mistake that it was_ me _who had apparently been chosen to become a Guardian._

 _However, on the other hand, I could feel just how desperate Nel was at this point. From how she described them, there were more of these monsters and they were all extremely lethal, perhaps more then they'd been tonight. The monster I had fought tonight, the panic and chaos it had spread . . . that had only been the beginning, I knew it. And, if someone didn't stand up to fight soon and defend us, our end would surely be coming soon. Until Nel could find the other Guardians she spoke of,_ I _was the only one who could fight._

_Logically, I guess the choice was already decided. I knew what I had to do. As, so far, the only Guardian capable, it was solely my duty to defend everyone from these monsters. I'd have to muster up any and every piece of courage i had. I would have to fight._

_However, that didn't make my choice any easier. Unwanted images began flashing through my mind - the absolute terror on that poor man's face, his unmoving body being dropped to the ground, the blood-thirsty look that_ thing _had given me as it's beady eyes settled on my quivering form, it's booming steps getting closer, it's gigantic fist raised only an inch from my face . . . I shivered. The back of my scalp suddenly panged, as if to remind me of the blow it had received not an hour ago. I raised a hand to rub it, but hissed and sharply drew my fingertips away from the sudden fire bursting from the injured area. A large lump had begun to form and it stung just from a light touch._

_My empty gaze fell onto my shivering hands. If I had gotten just that from one fight, who's to say I'll even make it out in the next one?_

" _Please, Helga," Nel's voice was softer this time. It surprised me. I looked up from my hands and met her determined glare. "There isn't any time to waste. Many more Mutants will begin to infiltrate this planet, if they haven't already, and, without you, all hope is lost. I've yet to find the other Guardians, so, until then, it's all up to you."_

_I wanted to smack my forehead in frustration. Sure, Nel, tell me that every person's life on this God forsaken planet depends on me. Now I was even more aware of the list of perks that would come with this job as a Guardian._

_Still, I couldn't ignore the piteous amount of desperation laced through Nel's voice. The way her eyes pleaded with mine to at least_ consider _what I could prevent by becoming a Guardian. To at least consider what would happen if I chose to turn down becoming a Guardian. To consider what would happen to the people I love, to my home . . . to my planet._

_I sighed. Looks like I'm gonna have to get used to running in heels, then._

_Wrapping my arms around myself, I crossed the room with long, determined strides, my mouth pressed into a hard line. I sat down on the floor in front of my bed in front of Nel. The black cat looked confused, but didn't say anything. I crossed my legs, settling myself comfortably on the floor before clearing my throat and looking Nel in the eye. "So," I began awkwardly, "what exactly was that thing?"_

_Nel momentarily seemed taken back by my sudden change of heart, but quickly shook it off with a reassured smile and a nod. I didn't know Nel very well (I had, after all, only met her today), but I knew that was her way of silently thanking me. "That, Helga, was a Mutant."_

" _A Mutant?"_

" _Yes," Nel nodded with a grim expression. "A genetic experiment created by the Priestess Acantha."_

_I furrowed my brow. "Ah-kan-tha?"_

_Nel looked mildly amused at my attempt at pronouncing the foreign name, but continued with a nod. "Yes - Acantha. A woman of absurdly great powers and leader of Mutants like the one you fought tonight," she explained. "She travels from planet to planet with her army of Mutants, killing all life on that particular planet before moving onto the next."_

_A shiver ran up my spine, but I didn't make a comment. Drawing my legs to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and leaned closer to Nel, intrigued._

" _I regret to say there is little I know about Acantha. People who usually come into contact with her aren't normally heard of again. However I do know that the most recent planet she declared war on, Lackia, severely weakened her army and she was forced to flee. She was temporarily able to open a portal that allowed herself and roughly only 10% of her army to escape . . . the portal led her here. However, the rest of her army remains on Lackia."_

" _What," I forced myself to speak, my voice coming out lower then usual, "is she hoping to get from Earth?"_

_I wasn't to sure if I wanted to know the answer._

" _Energy. Lots of energy. The Priestess Acantha is a powerful woman - legend has it that she has the strength of a thousand of the greatest Priestesses. However even she has her limits. She cannot hope to open up a portal that far for so many Mutants. So, she plans on collecting enough energy from you humans to even open one. If she is able to open one, she'll regain the rest of her army . . . and destroy all life on Earth."_

_Yep, I decided, I was right. I, for sure, did not want to know the answer._

_I swallowed loudly, but forced myself to ignore the little 'destroy all life on Earth' factor. "Um ,you say 'energy'. What exactly is that?"_

" _To put it bluntly, your energy is your life force. It is what drives you in your regular life. It is a fundamental force that nourishes all life in existence. It's what allows you to think, feel, move, react - everything. Without it, we simply couldn't exist. Everything living gives off a considerable amount in their lifetime. You humans in particular give off quite a bit, which is why you're all, for the moment, so valuable to Acantha."_

_Now that Nel was explaining all of this to me, the little dots were beginning to connect with one another as a clearer picture was painted in my mind. "So, that yellow cloud I saw on the man, then . . . that mist the Mutant was collecting, was that his energy?"_

_Nel nodded. "Yes. Because of the amount you give off regularly, it shouldn't take more then a couple thousand of you to provide Acantha with the power to open up the portal. And, if she opens up another portal . . ."_

_She trailed off, but neither of us needed her to finish her sentence for her meaning to come across._

" _She sounds like an absolute bitch," I decided, pursing my lips. The comment was more directed at myself then to Nel, but the cat surprised me when a small smile cracked at her mouth._

_However, the smile was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared as she proceeded to teach me of our upcoming apocalypse. "There are three types of Mutants that I've counted. There is the general type of Mutant, Wraiths and Leeches. Mutants are the most common form of these experiments and simply go by that name. They come in all shapes and sizes and each have various strengths. However, they all share a common weakness - you may have noticed the writing on that knife I gave you." I nodded and Nel continued. "Well, that is an ancient incantation that enchants the blade. It allows the blade to act as a sort of acid to them. If it the blade is pierced through the flesh, it'll instantly defeat them, as you saw tonight. Do not lose that blade, whatever you do. It is highly valuable and, so far, your only determined way of killing them."_

" _What's the second types of Mutants?"_

" _Wraiths," Nel looked grim at just the thought of these and it didn't exactly encourage any warm, fuzzy feelings inside me either. "They are unlike regular Mutants because they do not outright attack their victims. No, these types are a lot more subtle then the regular Mutant. Instead of attacking, they feed off their victim's happiness. They normally inhabit a popular spot, one that'll attract lots of humans, and use their joy as a way of collecting their victim's energy. Worst of all, they're able disguise themselves perfectly reminiscent of humans. So, be careful, Hega."_

_I gulped._

" _And, the third type of Mutants," if Nel looked grim when explaining Wraiths, she looked positively terrified for the next type of Mutants, "are Leeches. And I pray that you'll never have to come into contact with them."_

_I frowned. "Why?"_

" _Because, Helga, unlike regular Mutants, they do not outright attack you. Like Wraiths, they are not as noticeable, however, unlike both Wraiths and Mutants, you cannot even see a Leech, unless they allow you to. They feed off your insecurities, anxieties and fears. They keep themselves concealed within their barriers, completely invisible to the naked eye. Once they choose a victim, they'll read that person's thoughts and can discover their deepest fears. Using that knowledge, they can call the victim to their barriers and into their nests. For an ordinary human, once they enter a Leech's barriers, they cannot escape. From what I've heard, the inside of a Leech's barrier depends on the victim's very fears. So far, the only people who've come out alive have been Guardians. The rest have died from having experienced such terrors and their bodies consumed."_

_I fell into a silence, allowing my thoughts to run rampant as I digested all this information Nel had sprung on me. I squeezed my hands into tiny fists as I tried holding back the shivers that raced down my spine. What had I gotten myself into? Was this going to be my new life now? Not the life of an overdramatic, anti-social teenage girl but that of a superhero, a soldier even?_

_I didn't want any of it. None of it. I wanted to curl up in a ball under my thick doonas and force myself to go to sleep. Only I didn't want to wake up._

_I didn't want to face my life like this. I was still only a kid. How could_ I _be in charge of defending the world from an upcoming apocalypse, in the form of an army full of monsters and a ridiculously powerful Priestess, when I couldn't even manage to pass my classes?_

" _W-Why me?" I whispered, so quietly that I didn't think Nel could hear me. I cursed myself mentally when my voice shook. It was obvious to anyone with ears that I was scared, terrified, of my new life as a Guardian._

_Nel shrugged, looking just as confused as I felt for that answer. "That I don't know," Nel looked away, towards the window that overlooked the city's lights, "All I can assume is that there's something special about you. You were, after all, chosen by destiny."_

"Uh, okay, _wow_. I did _not_ know we had this here before."

* * *

Because honestly the building that I stood in front of looked like it was about to collapse. In fact, I was 90% sure it was gonna collapse. To put it nicely, it was a completely mess, almost a dump.

The windows were boarded, the wood panelling shabby and the paint, once a presumably pristine snowy white, was now a cream and peeling from the walls. Thin strips of ivy gnarled it's way in between the hairline cracks in the walls, tangling it's leathery shape throughout the painfully aged abode.

I sent a flat look to the cat sat at my ankles. "Nel, this looks like it's gonna collapse."

"It won't, Helga," Nel's eyes did not waver from the abandoned building in front of us. "And it being deserted will play to our advantage. No one would think that a Guardian would train here."

I crouched onto my tippy toes, lowering myself to Nel's eyes, and looked her dead in the eyes. "You're right, Nel. Absolutely no one would think I was training here," my voice was flat and quiet,"because IT'S GONNA COLLAPSE!"

At my screaming, Nel's ears drew back against her ears and she grimaced. Turning to me, she glared up at me impatiently. "Yes, it _looks_ like it will collapse, therefore it will not draw attention and people will not think to snoop around, which is the last thing we need. Now, for goodness sakes, just _trust_ me and go inside."

Gritting my teeth, I threw my fists to my side and angrily marched myself down the concrete path and up the steps. My loud thumps eventually turned timid and hesitant when the wooden floorboards let out a groan under my weight. Uh, that most certainly did _not_ sound good.

I threw a panicked look over my shoulder at Nel, who somehow had managed to keep up with my long strides. She didn't sympathise with my worries and looked unimpressed. "Do hurry up, Helga, we're already pressed for time."

Puffing out my cheeks, my eyebrows furrowed. Well, _someone_ sure was catty today.

The door that stood in front of me had faded paint falling in fragments from the bare tarp. I forced myself to raise a shaky hand and press it gently against the moist frame. The amber hinges whined as the door slowly swung open, revealing an almost decaying home.

Immediately, I was hit with a vile odour and slapped a hand to my nose. My watering eyes widened. _Did someone_ die _here or something?_

The interior, in many ways, looked _worse_ then the exterior. Random patches of mold grew from the once-purple carpet and the stained walls did _not_ look remotely stable enough to hold this place up. And, from somewhere inside the house, I could hear the distant sound of dripping water.

_Squelch!_

My stomach twisted uncomfortably as my foot sunk into the _extremely_ damp carpet. I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from screaming as dirty water encircled my _once_ clean shoes.

"Neeeeeeeeeel," I whined, eyes trained on my , I knew when I had agreed to being a Guardian I would be signing myself up for quite a fair bit, but _this_ I could not recall agreeing to.

"C'mon, Helga!" Nel's impatient voice came from an open door on the far end of the room.

I groaned. _Stupid, goddamn cat._

Hiking up my skirt (which was, essentially, pointless as it was nowhere near long enough to get wet, but I _was not_ taking any chances), I began making my way across the room.

_Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!_

Every time I took a hesitant step, my stomach would jump into a whole new position. Several, childish squeaks managed to escape my clamped mouth, but I continued walking across the room.

 _Why_ had I become a Guardian again?

My steps slowed once I had walked through the door and found myself in an empty hallway. "Nel?" I called, scanning the area for the crouched form of a black cat.

I came up blank, however.

"Over here, Helga!" Nel's voice sounded. Following the direction it had come from, I found myself looking at a slightly ajar door along the right wall. Letting out a small breath of frustration, I went in the direction of Nel's voice.

Opening the door, I realised that it was a closet. It was a small, dark space full of numerous coats hanging from the hooks.

I rose a brow, who the _hell_ puts a closet in the middle of their house?

Nel sat perched in the middle of the closet, her tail flicking furiously in the air, frowning up at me. "You certainly did take your time, Helga." I opened my mouth to argue, but she quickly cut me off. "No matter, there's no point standing there arguing about it. Close your mouth, you aren't a fish, and shut the door, please."

You know, between my being physically larger then her _and_ having superpowers, Nel was _really_ beginning to push her luck.

Gritting my teeth, I shut the door behind me then turned to her to look at her challengingly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Now what?"

" _Now_ take out your pin," she instructed. Digging around my blazer pocket, I pulled out my bird shaped pin. The metal felt icy cold in my hands, unused since last night. "Hold it in front of the scanner."

Puzzled, I frowned down at her. "Okay, _what_ scanner Einstein? We're in a _closet_."

Nel wrinkled her nose. "Up _there_ , Helga. Look directly in front of you."

Okay, this cat was officially on drugs. It was bad enough Nel could talk, but now she was seeing things? Criminy, I did _not_ sign up for a talking, delusional cat-

Hey, when'd that scanner get there?

It had escaped my notice before, but there was a tiny black box poked from the closed door. The box was extremely small, no bigger then my thumb. "Now," Nel continued, her eyes trained on the box. "Hold your pin in front of it."

I gave Nel a hesitant look, but she only sent me an encouraging nod.

Gripping the pin extra tightly, I slowly rose the bird's eye to the box. A blue beam of light burst out of the box and illuminated both our faces. I jumped back, but Nel simply stood there, already expecting this. The light traced up and down the bird on my pin, then suddenly vanished and the box quickly sunk into the door.

I blinked, shaking my head. "W-What the _hell_ was that?"

Ignoring my question, Nel quickly sunk to the ground with a hardened look. "Hold onto something - it has a bit of a kick."

I quirked a brow at her, thoroughly confused.

The floor beneath us gave a loud groan and weird noises echoed throughout the walls. It felt as if the floor had given out as, like a rocket, Nel and I were shot off.

_Whoooosh!_

The force sent me tumbling to my feet and the back of my head colliding with the wall behind me. I groaned, rubbing at the spot. Even Nel winced in pain.

A blinding red light began to flash on and off. A sudden wind whipped my hair into my face and eyes. My heart shot into the pit of my stomach. Aside from the slight movement of the coats hanging above us, you wouldn't be able to tell that we were moving.

My eyebrows shot up. Was the closet an _elevator_?

Then, it was all gone. The light, the wind and the movement of the floor.

Pressed against the wall, I stayed silent.

A flood of bright light suddenly was let in as the door in front of us was sunk cleanly into the ground. The light was blinding and I let out a groan, covering my eyes from the glare. Where even were we?

I heard Nel stand back on her paws and slowly pad out of the closet-elevator thingy. "Finally," she mumbled to herself. "We're here, Helga."

I figured that.

Slowly, my eyes blinked open. I strained to ignore the harsh glare of the lighting-

. . . and gasped. Outside the door was an extremely, _extremely_ large room. Brightly lit, each of the five walls matched the floor in an extremely pristine shade of white.

Blinking, I slowly climbed to my feet, the sore spot on my head now forgotten. I took a single step out of the elevator-

_Whoosh!_

I jumped and quickly spun around. With horror, I realised that the closet that had taken us both here had completely vanished and now I was staring at a blank wall.

"Um," I turned to face Nel, who was sat not a couple of feet from me. The feline met my challenging frown with a raised brow. " _How_ the hell are we supposed to get back ,now?"

"Really, Helga, do you _really_ think I would allow us to get trapped in here?" Nel shook her head, looking almost disappointed. "As long as you have that pin, you may leave. That pin is your form of identification now."

Looking away from the black cat, I began examining the extremely high walls with wonder. I noticed that along the far left corner was a rectangular window that almost entirely covered the wall. Next to it was a small, plain door. I let out a low whistle, impressed. "How'd you even get this place here?"

"That doesn't matter, Helga," Nel lectured, standing up. "What matters is training you into becoming a formidable solder. Someone the people of Earth will firmly place their trust in. I will admit, you did surprise me last night with how quickly you learnt to wield your powers, but do not think that as anything but luck. Compared to other Mutants, that one was relatively powerless. If you want to make it out of other fights that are sure to come, you're going to have to let me train you, and for that to happen you need to have complete trust in me, is that clear?"

The way Nel looked at me as she spoke took me by surprise. Her purple eyes glared at me with an intensity that tightened my chest. But, unlike the multiple times before when she'd been glaring at me, it wasn't a glare of anger. No, it was one of determination. Of encouragement and hope.

How seriously she spoke also took me back - at this point, I had gotten quite accustomed with how much of a stick in the mud Nel was, but she'd never been this _deadly serious_ before.

Silently, I nodded my head.

"Good," Nel firmly nodded back in response, "now transform."

"Alright, alright," I held out my hands defensively, frowning. "Jeez, bos- _sy._ "

Squeezing the pin tightly in my arm, I felt an exhilarating feeling travel up my arm as I thrusted it into the air. " _My Inner Guardian: Uni-!_ "

"You don't have to yell that anymore."

I paused, my arm still awkwardly hanging in the air. "Uh, _what_?"

"That phrase. You don't have to say it anymore."

"And why not?"

Nel looked disappointed. "Really, Helga, don't you think that perhaps suddenly shouting ' _My Inner Guardian: Unite'_ it'd look the slightest bit suspicious? It'd bring an unnecessary amount of attention to yourself. Instead, try saying it in your mind."

I nodded, for once agreeing with her. Nel _did_ raise a good point, after all.

Clearing my throat, I shot my arm into the air, thinking the words as clearly as I had spoken them. _My Inner Guardi-_

"Oh, and also, now that you've given yourself an official name," Nel interrupted, _again_ , looking up in thought, "the phrase will instead become _Blue Jay: Unite!_ Understood?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Can I actually transform now?"

She nodded.

For the third time, I raised my arm above my head and pinned the bird to my shirt.

_Blue Jay: Unite!_

A bright light shot out from the eye of the bird on my shirt and engulfed me. I closed my eyes as I felt a warmth surge through me. The tips of my toes left the ground and I felt my clothing shortening and my limbs growing.

Within a flash, I was left standing in the middle of the empty room, dressed as Blue Jay.

I blinked. The overwhelming power flowing through me felt as if I'd just woken from a thousand year slumber. My mind began racing so fast it felt numb and my body felt as if it was overflowing with power. Clenching my fists my sides, I marvelled at the strength I could feel slithering up and down my muscles.

I heard a door slamming shut behind me and whirled around, momentarily taken back by how fast I had moved. I blinked - right, I forgot that, as Blue Jay, I had faster reflexes then ordinary Helga. _That_ was going to take some getting used to.

I realised that Nel, some time while I'd been transforming, had moved to the door next to the window and, now sitting behind it, was typing something into a keyboard I hadn't earlier noticed. I slowly crossed the room toward the typing cat, but Nel didn't bother looking up, not even as I reached her. She instead continued running her paws up and down the keyboard at an impressive speed (pfft, what am I saying? She's a _cat._ _Any_ speed is impressive).

Stopping in front of the window, I swept my gaze over the room Nel sat in. It was just as plain as the room I currently stood in. It was entirely grey and it's only furniture included a chair and keyboard, both currently in Nel's use.

Raising a brow, I gave a swift knock on the glass. Nel looked up for a quick second, scanned my new attire, then returned to her furious typing. I frowned. "Hey, Nel!" I barked angrily. "What the hell? What am I supposed to do now?"

Looking up, Nel gave me an extremely displeasing look. Keeping her eyes trained on me, she reached her left paw over and pressed a random button.

There was a mechanical groaning coming from all corners in the room so loud that, with a screech, I jerked in a random direction, whipping my eyes in all directions as I searched where the sounds came from. At first, I was only met with the same blank walls, when suddenly a beam of yellow light zapped into existence on the other side of the room. The light stuttered and shimmered, then formed into the shape of a person. The figure had broad shoulders, strong limbs but no facial features.

Genuinely amazed, I let out a low whistle. "Wow, impressive hologram, Nel. I'll admit." It was just like I'd walked into some sci-fi movie.

The figure immediately sprung into action and tore into a run. I lifted an eyebrow, admiring how gracefully the hologram moved. It bolted across the room like an Olympic champion at the start of a gun. I noted that, to my chagrin, each one of it's mighty strides was worth at least two of mine.

Well, I guess it just can't be helped, I decided with a small shrug of defeat. It _was_ a hologram, after all, and I'm just a-

Wait a minute, was it charging at _me_?

Alarm bells began ringing frantically in my ears as the figure crossed more then half the room but didn't slow in it's pace. It's featureless face was turned in my direction and not once did it look away.

. . . yup, it was definitely charging at me.

Shrieking in surprise, I stumbled backwards and pressed myself against the window behind me. "Criminy, what's it doing? Nel! Make it stop!"

Nel didn't respond, that dirty little coward.

"Nel!" I tried again, pressing myself even _further_ into the window. "Whaddya doin'? Stop it!"

" **I'm not going to fight your battles for you, Helga,** " Nel's voice suddenly boomed from every corner of the room and I jumped in surprise. " **You have to learn to fight for yourself. No more running and instead taking a stance and-** "

Her speech was cut off by my (very loud) screaming when the hologram suddenly appeared in front of me. My knees shook under my weight when I realised just _how_ much taller the figure was compared to me. My forehead only just reached it's _chest_. And I was in my _Guardian_ form, wearing _heels_.

The figure drew back its arm over it's (ohmygosh, _extremely_ broad) shoulder, but before it could swing it's punch, I fell to my knees and threw my arms around my head. I didn't hear any glass breaking, but, by God, I _did_ hear the vibration when the fist made contact with the window.

I gulped. So the hologram was _solid_?

Looking up, I let out another squeak. The figure's head was turned down at me and I could imagine that if it _had_ any facial features, it'd be giving me an _extremely_ dirty look right now. The figure lifted it's leg to deliver a kick, but, with my heart in my mouth, I managed to scramble between it's legs and crawl away on my knees.

Mentally, I couldn't stop myself from doing a victory dance at my _awesomely_ quick thinking. Whoo, you _go_ , Helga, ol' girl!

I paused in my mental chanting when I felt a heated glare boring in between my shoulder blades. Peeking over my shoulder, the hologram looked positively furious now. I didn't bother questioning how on earth a faceless _hologram_ could look angry, and instead immediately scrambled to my feet, threw my hands up into the air and sprinted forward, the hologram hot on my heels.

" **Helga,** _ **stop**_ **running away!** " Nel urged desperately.

I gritted my teeth but didn't slow down. " _You_ try fighting it then, you coward!" I barked over my shoulder. I gulped upon realising how closely the hologram was getting and urged my legs to pick up on the speed. But, as it turned out, that was quite difficult to do in heels.

"Shit!"

My ankle gave out and I shortly found myself landing face first onto the ground. Groaning, I rubbed my pounding forehead and mentally cursed my dumb heels. Who even designed this costume, Malibu Barbie?

The hairs on my neck shot up and I barely managed to roll over.

 _Crack_.

There were hairline cracks forming in the spot I'd been lying not two seconds ago under the huge, orange fist that now was shaking. I gulped. Where those cracks were forming- that could've been my _face_.

Frowning, I turned to glare at Nel. "You gave this thing _super strength_? What the- whoa!" Before I could finish my rant, the hologram had recovered and, with a snarl, leapt towards me with another punch. Unprepared, I staggered backwards and held my hand up defensively in front of my face.

If it could, I could just imagine the ugly grin stretched across its mouth as the hologram lunged at me. I barely managed to avoid this blow and, as it's clenched fist flew past my face, I could feel a pulsating power so great that, I knew, one hit could land me in the hospital. "NEL-!"

The figure's fist jammed into my windpipe, cutting off the rest of my cry. I launched forward, over my knees, grasping at my throat and spluttering out multiple coughs. As I tried to get air flowing back into my throat, a blunt force to my nose sent me reeling backwards onto the floor.

Lying on my back, I blinked rapidly at the dancing spots shimmering from the ceiling. Huh, I didn't know know we had stars down here.

Something tightly clasped my ankle and, with a scream, I was pulled roughly across the floor. The hologram held me up in the air, dangling me as if I weighed nothing, then began to spin. I don't know how many times he spun around (I suspect, at least, over four), but, by the time the pressure wrapped around my ankle had disappeared, I was flying across the room.

"Craaaaaaaaa-!"

_BANG!_

And, face first, I was sent crashing into the wall.

_. . . ouch._

At this point, I _knew_ Nel was face-palming, even from _here_. Hell, I'm sure even the hologram was.

Slowly, I slid down the wall and landed in a pathetic pile on the ground. Groaning, I slowly reached up a hand to my nose. I realised, with horror, that red liquid was _pouring_ from it. My nose throbbed as a searing pain raced through not just my face, but my entire _body_.

I scowled. _That_ does it.

Slowly, I turned back to face the hologram. It stood almost proudly, with it's legs in a firm, powerful stance, waiting for me to make the first move.

I smirked. Fine with me.

Wiping away the droplets from my nose, I reached into my boot and grasped my trusty knife tightly. Lowering myself into a stance I didn't even know I knew, I pulled out the blade. The blade felt cold in my hand, but I clasped it like my life depended on it. Suddenly, my hand of it's own accord, began spinning the blade out in front of me protectively.

I blinked. When the heck had I learnt _that_?

Without another second, I threw the blade by its tip in the hologram's direction. The hologram quickly dodged it, allowing me an opening. Ignoring the way the floor shifted beneath my feet, I bolted across the room. The hologram's attention was on the blade that had embedded itself into the wall behind it. With it's defences down, I leapt into the air and sent my foot heel first into it's side.

The hologram stumbled backwards, momentarily taken aback, and I landed gracefully on the balls of my feet. Bracing myself, I tightened my fists and launched into a defensive stance. The hologram mirrored my stance, holding it's fists out in front of it's face and setting it's legs apart.

There was a quick pause, as I met where it's eyes would be, before quick as a flash I dashed forward. Twirling on the balls of my feet, I dug my foot into the side of it's head. It stumbled but quickly snapped back. Pulling back my leg, I struck out again, aiming for the other side of it's head, but it responded quickly and blocked my attack. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I sent another kick to it's stomach but, sensing my motive, it's hands wrapped around my foot.

I paused. The gulped.

Uh oh.

I gulped again. "Don't," I began, trying desperately to sound forceful but sounding more frightened, "you _dare_."

I swear, if it could smirk, it would.

Instead, it went ahead with what I specifically told it not to do and, tightening its grip, twisted my foot sideways. I squealed as, for a split second, my last foot left the ground and I was in the air. A blur of white whizzed by as I spun pathetically in the air.

Then it was over and I was back on the ground, head knocking against the floor. The grip on my right foot was gone and, with a bang, it landed next to my left. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as my body throbbed. Why was this so _hard_?

A whistling in my ear alerted me of an incoming fist aimed at my nose. My eyes shot open and, quick as a flash, I rolled to my side and out of harm's way. There was a smash as it's fist collided with the tiles. Crouched on the balls of my feet and tips of my fingers, I turned back to face the hologram. It's gaze was - assumedly - on me again, it's body crouched over the cracked tiles.

The hologram rose to it's feet, suddenly looking a _lot_ larger now then before. My eyes followed it's movements as it took slow, large steps towards me. With every new step the hologram took, it felt as if the ground shook from it's power.

The closer it got, the deeper my stomach sunk into the pit of my soul.

It stop a couple of feet in front of me. Both of us stood there, frozen like statues, waiting for the other to make a move. My body felt to heavy and cold with fear to possibly move. So I simply sat there, my neck craned back as I stared up at the gigantic figure standing in front of me. It's fists were clenched by it's sides, it's shoulders tense and chin practically dipped into it's collarbone as it stared down at me.

Finally, it drew its arm back, fist clenched over it's shoulder. I braced myself for the unbearable pain that was to follow.

When suddenly my body acted on it's own accord. Before I knew it, my eyes had snapped open and, within a few seconds, my leg had swept underneath the hologram's, knocking it clean off it's feet and, with a sickening thud, sent it falling to the ground.

I winced upon seeing the impact, but shakily climbed to my feet and attempted to run.

I hadn't even taken two steps when something strong wrapped around my ankle and, with a tug, I was sent falling face first into the tiles.

Tears sprung to my eyes as my nose began to painfully throb again, but I forced myself to ignore it. Squealing, I kicked frantically at the hand that had seized my ankle, hoping that I could loosen its tight grip. But, with another tug, I was pulled closer to the fallen hologram and, next thing I knew, a gigantic weight had settled itself on my stomach and my shoulders were pinned back by it's knees.

A rough hand grabbed the collar of my leotard and dragged me up as far as it could. The hologram's featureless face loomed over mine and my heart leapt into my throat. I tried wiggling my arms from underneath the hologram's legs, hoping I could escape, but it's weight rendered me practically frozen. The most I could do was stretch out my hand-

My eyes widened.

_That's it._

The hologram reeled it's fist back over it's shoulder, but my mind wasn't focused on that. Instead, I was focused facing my hand palm up and spreading my fingers.

There was a tingling at my fingertips-

The hologram's fist suddenly lunged at me. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, and waited for the pain.

Only none came.

No more, at least.

I counted to ten in my head, but still nothing happened.

Instead, I heard a sharp whistling then a _shing!_

Slowly, I opened my eyes-

My jaw dropped and another scream fell out. The hologram's fist hung only a few centimeters from my nose. However, the fist wasn't moving - it was completely frozen. Blinking, I slowly traced my gaze up from it's face to it's face.

My eyes widened. Not only had it's fists frozen, but so had it's entire form. The entire hologram had ceased movement and now sat motionlessly like a statue on my stomach.

I quirked a brow. Why had-?

_Oh._

"Oh my god."

My eyes remained frozen on the head of the hologram - or rather, what was _embedded_ in it's head.

_My knife._

The image of the hologram sudden became fuzzy, blinking in and out of focus, before completely cutting out. The pressure on my chest entirely disappeared and I let out a quiet, relieved breath. Before I could so much as blink, my hand abruptly, on it's own accord, stretched out and caught the dagger by the blade.

For a moment, I simply stared at the blade in my hand, before, with another sigh, I gave up and lay on my back, exhausted. My arms were spread out by my side, the knife falling from my hands, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the peace.

My heart was still racing, It throbbed against my rib cage and pounded in my ears. Beads of sweat rolled down my face and my lungs felt like they would burst. There was a familiar throbbing at my nose and I could taste something metallic on my tongue.

Oh, right. I forgot that that dumb hologram had injured me.

Opening my eyes, I reached out a hand to my face and lightly touched my nose. The sudden pain that flared up caused me to immediately pull my hand away with a grimace. There was a thick, red coating now on my fingers and suddenly all my exhaustion was gone and replaced with anger.

"NEL!"

I was up in a second and stumbling my way to Nel's corner behind the window. That dumb cat had the nerve to actually look _annoyed_ with me - _annoyed._ With _me_. As if, somehow, between my running away for my life and being beaten to a pulp, I had managed to _offend_ her. _Me,_ Helga G. Pataki.

Said offended cat sighed, looking almost impatient. "Yes, what is it now, Helga?"

Gritting my teeth, I placed my fists angrily on my hips and stood outside the window. Of course, only _Nel_ could make it sound like it'd been _me_ who'd done something wrong when I'd been the one who had fought that freaky hologram thingy. "You dragged me here, to this ugly, old building which I'm fairly sure is gonna collapse any moment, had me ride an extremely unstable elevator and, without warning, forced me to fight some freaky Star Trek hologram,which pretty much beat the socks off me - and _before_ you say I'm 'simply overreacting, Helga', take a good look at my nose cause I didn't get this for no reason - while you have the nerve to sit safely behind your bullet proof glass, lecturing me on your little microphone, sounding _irritated_ that I'm the _slightest_ bit annoyed at any of this?"

Nel's eyes narrowed but she didn't speak, so I continued, throwing my arms up in the air for extra emphasis as I paced up and down. "I mean, for criminy's sake! You didn't even _warn_ me before you sprung that bloody thing onto me! I could've been really injured, y'know! Hell, I _was_ injured! You say I need to trust you, but you're making that extremely difficult if you don't give me a little heads up once in awhile! Geeze!"

A short awkward silence hung in the air. Nel didn't respond to what I said, instead looking to the side of the room with an uncomfortable look in her eyes. For a moment, I was actually _worried_ that perhaps I'd been a bit to harsh on her. But, then another painful ripple tugged at my nose, and I was reminded of why I was so angry. So with a frown, I turned to directly face her challengingly.

The silence was broken when she sighed. Her eyes flickered back to mine and she quietly cleared her throat. "Are you quite done, Helga?"

I nodded, still giving her a dirty look.

"Yes, Helga, you're right. I do need you to trust. As I've said before, trusting me will allow me to train you into a proper soldier." The look in Nel's violet eyes was so intense, that I was forced to shift my gaze to the tips of my shoes. "Acantha's army is one of great strength and will remain extremely difficult to defeat. For now, _you_ , Helga, are the only Guardian I've found, so, as a result, you are the only one eligible to defeat her army. That means it's you versus thousands, millions perhaps. Yes, my training methods may seem harsh, especially now given how little you seem to know about combat, but you must believe me in that everything I teach you is for the best. Yes, perhaps I should've given you a warning, and, for that, I am sorry, but you cannot expect Acantha's army to ever give you a warning either. You must always be on your Guard, ready to jump into action . . . do you understand?" I didn't answer. My gaze was still cast downwards on my shoes, unable to meet Nel's look. Every time I looked at her, it reminded me of how serious this entire situation was. "Do you understand, Helga?"

Slowly, I raised my chin to meet Nel's eyes. Her tail was wrapped around her body and, to my surprise, her gaze had softened, if only a little. She looked at me almost empathetically, like she knew how much she was asking of me, but there was nothing else she could do.

Wordlessly, I nodded.

Nel nodded back in approval then turned back to the keyboard. Without another word, she ran her paws along the keys and began typing rapidly without looking up.

I hesitated but, with a sigh, forced myself to finally speak. "Nel," my voice was quiet and fragile, but I didn't let my gaze waver. Nel paused in her typing and met my look with curious eyes. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. F-For yelling at you, I mean. It's not fair to you, you're only trying to train me . . . n-none of this is your fault."

Nel's eyes widened, taken back by my sudden apology. I couldn't blame her. In the short amount of time we'd known each other, I'm sure she had, at this point, put together I wasn't one to give out apologies, let alone mean it. Nonetheless, she managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Helga."

The corners of my mouth twitched as I nodded.

Turning back to the keyboard, Nel pressed a single, familiar button.

More mechanical groaning filled the room and I slowly turned around, with a raised brow. I felt my entire body pale as my shocked eyes landed on, not one, but _six_ glowing figures standing on the other side of the room.

"NEL!"

* * *

"You know, you could've at least _warned_ me before springing _six_ more holograms at me, Nel."

Said cat, whom sat with her tail wrapped around her body next to me, rolled her eyes. "You're really going to go over this _again_ , Helga?"

I scowled, the ice pack I held to my eye momentarily forgotten. "You're absolutely right, Nel. At this point I'm just being selfish. Getting beaten by six of those freaky sci fi things is completely _my_ fault, isn't it?"

"If you," Nel began, closing her eyes, "had _only_ being paying attention when that hologram had attacked-"

"There were six of them, Nel!" The ice pack fell to my lap as I threw my arms into the air, staring down at the cat in frustration. " _Six_!"

Nel opened her mouth to argue when a sharp shriek suddenly cut her off. The high-pitched cries shook us both from our argument and we exchanged looks.

We both _knew_ what that shriek meant.

And, quite frankly, I was annoyed.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" I shouted, threading my hands through my hair in frustration. "Now, _seriously_?"

Nel didn't seem to share my annoyance for the poor timing, Well, easy for her, given she wasn't doing any of the fighting. "It's the enemy!" Her glare was off into the distance, in the direction the screeching came from. "Come quickly, Helga. It's time to put that training to good use."

I gaped at her, astonished.

Nel furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"You _can't_ be serious," I said, blinking. "I just spent the last few hours taking down _six_ of your holograms - _and_ I have a black eye, thanks to you."

"You do not have a choice, Helga," Nel countered sternly. "The enemy will to sit and wait for you because you just don't feel like it. Given the chance, they will kill hundreds of innocent civilians, children included. Do you really want that on your hands? Besides, by the time we get there, your eye should have healed. Now, hurry and transform!"

I sighed in defeat. Looks like my day _still_ wasn't over.

Pinning the bird to my shirt, I raised my arm. " _Blue Jay: Unite_!"

* * *

The screams grew louder as we ran deeper into the city. Accompanying the screams were multiple crashes followed shortly by a deep cackling which I figured could only belong to the Mutant.

Nel was quickly able to locate the distressful scene and, soon enough, we found ourselves in the heart of the city.

"Thank God," Nel whispered to herself as she peered around the brick wall. I could tell from how quickly her eyes were scanning the area that she was making a quick deduction of the Mutant. "It's only a Mutant. Not a particularly powerful one, either- oh, Helga, do hurry up!"

I gave her a dirty look and half-limped my way to the black cat, muttering unintelligently under my breath. You see, earlier, because of these _ridiculous_ heels, I'd taken a small detour and face-planted onto the sidewalk.

Curse whoever had designed this outfit.

Giving her a final ugly look, I gripped the edge of the wall and peered around to assess the situation myself . . . and felt my entire body pale in response and my soul shrivel up inside. I pulled away and slammed myself back against the wall, keeping my eyes focused straight ahead rather then on the freaky alien on the other side.

"Still," Nel continued, apparently failing to notice my minor mental breakdown, and peering around the corner back at the Mutant, "you shouldn't act to hasty with this one. It appears that its strength lies primarily in it's arms."

No shit, Sherlock.

Frowning, I glanced down at Nel. "I'm sorry," I began, although I was _far_ from feeling sorry, "but _how_ is this one _not_ powerful?"

Nel gave me an annoyed glance but quickly returned to watching the Mutant. I mirrored her actions, looking around the corner and to the roads, where the Mutant wreaked havoc.

I recognised the road this all was happening - it was one of the main roads leading to the city's shopping market. A popular place for civilians and a good target for victims. There were tons and tons of cars snaking down the road, as far as I could see. Up ahead, was an enormous crater that cut off the line of traffic. In the center of the crater stood the reason for all this commotion.

The Mutant was hideous, large and green. It's lanky body almost looked humanlike, only much larger. It's eyes were red, with large, black pupils and it's head bald. It had a muscular green chest and long, stumpy legs. It's arms were almost twice it's size and vine like, with four long fingers on it's hands.

Throwing it's head back, the Mutant let out a loud howl and raised its arms, as if screaming to the heavens it was ready to fight. Covering my ears, I gulped, my heart racing. _I_ was gonna have to fight that.

"How the _hell,_ " I demanded lowly, glaring down at the cat by my feet, "am I supposed to defeat _that_?"

Nel's ears were pulled back from the Mutant's howls, and she frowned, looking just as lost for an answer as I was. "You're going to have to find it's weakness," she answered simply.

I could've slapped her. Thank you _so_ much for stating the obvious.

Our attention was drawn back to the commotion on the street, when the monster shot out it's vine-like arms towards a couple sitting in a red car. The couple managed to scramble away, but the car was flung in the air and landed with a tremendous crash on it's roof.

"Helga, get ready. You're needed."

I hesitated. "But, Nel-"

"Just go!"

Letting out another terrifying growl, the Mutant shot out its arms towards a quivering man frozen in terror. The poor guy couldn't seem to be able to move and could only stare as the clawed hand flew closer to his face.

When the hand was no further then a few feet from him, he let out a horrified scream.

"Hey, ass-butt!"

The plant Mutant froze, attention momentarily off the terrified man. Looking around, the Mutant searched in the direction the voice had come from.

 _My_ attention.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, I stood proudly on top of a car a safe distance away from the Mutant. My fists were planted on my hips, my feet wide apart, my chin raised and, I hoped, the most apathetic look I could muster on my face.

Damn, I bet, with the way the sun's rays were outlining my figure and the breeze lifting the ends of my hair, I looked totally badass. _Now_ would be a nice time for a reporter to snap a photo . . .

"Who're you?!" the Mutant demanded, the man forgotten. As like before, the man seemed just as frozen, his skin an ashen white and his eyes wide with fright. Making eye contact with him, I mouthed ' _Go!'_ and nudged my head in a random direction.

The man understood my non-subtle urging and, with a nod, turned on his heel and sprinted. The Mutant either decided it didn't care or just didn't notice it's victim making an exit, as it's gaze remained unblinkingly on me.

Clearing my throat, I took a step forward. "I'm-"

But, as it turned out, my heels didn't agree with me and (for perhaps the fourth time today) my ankle gave out. With a screech, I found myself sliding off the car and plummeting towards the ground.

_Thump!_

I groaned. Now my nose felt truly, truly numb. Aside from the slight throbbing, stinging and burning, of course. Other then that, it was completely numb.

My arms, for some reason, shook as I pushed myself up from the ground. Too much fighting in one day, I decided. There was a slight spinning as I sat up on my knees, so the awkward silence only stretched on for longer as I shakily climbed to my feet. I could feel both the Mutant and Nel's eyes on me as I stumbled, both watching me for different reasons. The Murant, I'm sure, was probably more shocked than anything, while Nel, I could just _feel_ her slapping her forehead in frustration.

I puffed out my cheeks. Why does she _always_ do that?

Especially considering it was _me_ out here fighting (well, _about_ to fight) the Mutant-alien thingy and _she_ was hidden behind a brick wall a good few feet away, out of harm's way.

 _ **Hypocrite,**_ I grumbled to myself, unaware that I had accidentally used telepathy. Nel looked up sharply from her paw with a glare scary enough to rival Medusa's. Well, I could imagine.

Turning away from her glare, I quickly jumped to my feet and faced the Mutant confidently. The Mutant still stared at me in confusion, questioning what had just happened with a gaping mouth. Cheeks burning, I ignored the humiliation fluttering in my stomach and instead focused on the anger pumping through my veins.

I had a personal bone to pick with this Mutant.

It had, after all, pushed my time at home further back into the day, which after the past three hours of Nel's training, I had now decided I much preferred. To this, especially.

I took a step forward (and _didn't_ trip this time, thank _God_ , because _that_ would've been _ungodly_ humiliating) and pointed an accusing finger at the Mutant with a hardened glare. "I am Blue Jay, Defender of Earth and Guardian of Hillwood! How dare you attack innocent people! As a Guardian, I will defend my people! So, on behalf of those people - fuck off."

The only response I got from the Mutant was a jaw that dropped even further to the ground, despite it being physically impossible. It didn't say anything, only stared at me with rounded eyes. I shifted uncomfortable as the seconds of silence ticked on. I swear I could actually hear crickets chirping. Awkwardly I looked to the side, finding the Mutant's stare to be more then uncomfortable, and caught sight of a small ball of tumbleweed in the distance blowing in the wind. I watched with a mild fascination as the small ball was blown to the other side of the road and rose a brow. Since when was there tumbleweed in Hillwood?

A harsh cackle brought my attention back to the Mutant in front of me. Apparently it had decided on a reaction which, to my irritation, was laughter. It doubled over, clutching it's stomach and burst into loud howls of laughter.

I frowned and placed my hands back onto my hips. "Excuse me, Poison Ivy-"

"I'm sorry," it surprised me by not only apologising (and almost sounding _genuine,_ at that), but also wiping a lone tear from it's eye. It stood to it's full height with an amused smirk. "It's just . . . I can't take you seriously. Just with the fall- and the speech- ah! I'm supposed to be _afraid_ of you? Yeah, right!"

As the Mutant launched into another fit of laughter, I gritted my teeth in exasperation, feeling a vein popping in my tightening hands. I so very, very desperately wanted to hit the Mutant, but decided that _now_ perhaps wasn't the correct time to. So, with large breaths through my flaring nostrils, I forced myself to remain patient and wait.

A few moments passed and the Mutant still didn't stop laughing. Clenching my jaw, I decided now was a good time to retry my introduction. "I," I spoke with a deeper tone, threaded with a thinly disguised anger, "am Blue Jay. Defender of-"

"Yeah, yeah - I got it!" The Mutant interrupted me, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

Reluctantly, I closed my mouth. Hmp, and it had been such a good speech too. I'd been repeating it over and over in my head as Nel and I had traveled into the city, making minor edits and additions so I'd come across as a force to be reckoned with, a total badass.

Apparently that's not what I had come across with, however.

Lifting it's shoulder up in a half-shrug and tilting it's oval-shaped head to the side, the Mutant gave me a look of complete indifference, all signs of laughter absent. It's red eyes were narrowed and it's mouth pressed together in a hard line.

I could tell, just from it's look, that our fight was about to begin.

Quickly whipping my head in all directions and checked for any nearby civilians lingering about, stuck in their cars or hellbent on filming this. Thankfully, I came up empty and turned back to face the Mutant, holding my shaking fists up to my face and spreading my feet apart.

"Heh," The Mutant scrunched up it's face in disgust as it sized me up. "And they said you'd be difficult - as if. This shouldn't take more then ten minutes."

I rose a brow as my heart leapt in fear. "They? Who said-"

Before I could finish my question, the Mutant stretched out its arms towards me and, like green snakes, several vines shot towards me.

Screaming bloody murder, I quickly dived for the ground, wrapping my arms over my head. I heard a massive crashed from above me that left my ears ringing. Opening my eyes, I scanned my arms and legs for any injuries (well, any _more_ injuries, that training session _had_ been brutal), but came up empty.

I smiled. Thank God for reflexes.

Looking up, the smile fell from my face when I caught sight of the gaping hole left in the wall behind me. My jaw dropped as I took in the _size_ of the hole. It looked big enough to fit _Phoebe_ through it!

You idiot!" I barked, glaring back at the Mutant.

Immediately, I leapt to my feet and clumsily jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the intended death strike. I heard another crash, but quickly bolted, yelling over my shoulder, "Your aiming sucks!"

Sprinting down the street, I could hear the Mutant's arms whizzing past my ears as it launched numerous attacks. Relying on my instinct, I wove in between cars and street lights to narrowly dodge the strikes. Adrenaline coursed through my system as my legs took larger leaps and my heart pounded in my ears. Running forward, my blood felt as if it were on fire. My limbs moved on their own. I felt disconnected from everything, except for the drumming of my heart.

 _ **Helga, what are you doing?!**_ I heard Nel exasperatedly cry out, but I didn't slow down. _**What did I tell you about running away! You're a Guardian - fight!**_

Easy for her to say. She was watching from a nearby alley without so muc as a hair being touched. If I died, she could easily turn to the other Guardians she mentioned, whoever they were. She had plenty to spare. However, for me, if I died, well _I died_. There was no coming back and I doubted it was going to be quick and painless.

Still, a small voice spoke from a far corner in my mind. You _are_ a Guardian, are you not? What was it you said?

' _I am Blue Jay, Defender of Earth and Guardian of Hillwood!'_

You're Blue Jay. You called yourself the defender of this Earth and Guardian of Hillwood. Is _this_ what you call defending? Running away?

My mind froze and I skidded to a stop. I could hear Nel barking out orders at me - telling me to move, to look out, that I was being an idiot for just standing there - but my mind wasn't on her. I was rooted to the spot, unable to move. My back was faced to the Mutant, but my mind was far off in the distance. My head hung low as my gaze remained glued to the tips of my slightly dirted boots.

' _How dare you attack innocent people! As a Guardian, I will defend my people!'_

I had said that. Not two minutes ago, I had spoken those words. Those words that, for some reason, felt so familiar, so home to me. I had declared my protection, called these people _my_ people, felt truly angry that someone would dare launched an attack upon them.

" _To me, it seems Blue Jay represents a protection that we ourselves can't provide."_

Phoebe, my dear best friend, hadn't even witnessed the attack last night with her own eyes, yet wholeheartedly declared her belief in my abilities. She believed in me over the police, declared me her hero.

And not only she, but so had the whole school. They had expressed their gratitude and fascination and faith in me. Today had been spent gossiping about the mysterious Blue Jay - about how amazing she was, how cool her powers were and that despite knowing nothing about what that thing from last night had been, they believed in her protection.

Surely, they must've seen something in Blue Jay - in _me_ \- that encouraged them to feel this way. After all, it had only been one night, yet they were standing beside me as if it had been several. Perhaps they saw something that I couldn't see . . . something that made me right for the job.

My hand shook by my side, but I balled it up into a quivering fist.

I could feel the fear racing through my veins, pumping in my heart and curling in my stomach, but I didn't allow it to show on my face. My eyes remained steady, my eyebrows furrowed and my jaw clenched. I was a Guardian, I was not a coward. It wasn't just me I was fighting for, it was . . .

A flash of blond hair and an oblong-shaped head flashed through my mind for a quick second. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook the image from my head. No, he had nothing to do with this. This was _my_ battle.

" _There's just something about her that makes me feel completely protected . . ."_

And I _knew_ I could do it.

Letting out a small breath, I spun on my heel and defiantly look the Mutant straight in the eye. The corners of it's mouth twitched with amusement and it sent a solid whip of vines flying for me.

I clenched my shaking fists by my side tightly and hesitantly took a step forward with trembling feet. My body twitched with the impulse to whirl around and run, to escape this crazy situation I was in and retreat to a far safer place. As the vines came closer and closer to my face, the temptation became harder and harder to resist. But, with a clenched jaw, I remained still.

Sucking in a small breath through my nose, I counted to three then let it out again. I felt a powerful surge of _something_ rush through me, racing through my arms and sparking at my fingertips.

Pushing a foot forward, I stretched out my arm in front of me, palm outstretched. I could hear the whip slicing the air, but with closed eyes, forced myself to ignore it.

Concentrating on the waves of power rushing through me, I felt something swirling within my gut. It vibrated along my arms as it traveled up my spine and came out in sparks at my fingers.

Opening my eyes, I willed myself to make another protective wall, to protect me from this Mutant's harm.

. . . _but nothing happened._

My eyes widened in horror.

The sparks at my fingertips abruptly disappeared along with the feeling of immense power.

I was completely unprotected.

For a split second, I imagined myself outrunning it.

Spinning around, I pushed a foot forward but before I could take so much as another step, something hot cut across my shoulder blade and sent me reeling forward and onto my knees. Screaming, my hand immediately went to where the stinging resided. As soon as the tips made contact, it felt as if a thousand needles had erupted in my shoulder and I immediately pulled back. Looking at my hand, my eyes widened. My fingers were covered in red. Looking at the concrete, I realised it to was painted in the same liquid as my fingers.

 _Blood_.

My eyes were wide.

_My blood._

_**Helga run!** _

An icy cold realisation washed over my body in that split second. _My powers-_

A stinging sensation ten times more powerful then the first suddenly struck my cheek and I felt myself flying through the air.

There was a crash as the back of my head was bashed into something, shortly followed by a sharp _crunch!_ as I landed roughly on my stomach in a crumpled heap on the ground. It wasn't just my shoulder that white-hot pain erupted. Fire speared not only my cheek, but also my leg. The slightest movement sent instant flashes of pain to my leg - no, it was my thigh. There was something piercing my thigh - why was it suddenly wet?

I realised that my eyes at some point had closed and fought to keep them open. White spots were dancing along my vision but I fought to keep to keep my eyes open. Blinking rapidly, I tried to figure out where I was.

I wasn't in the streets anymore. I was- I was inside somewhere. But where? There were shapes surrounding me - shards of some sort. Shards of what? My vision was getting blurry and my head dropping back down, before I could figure it out.

There was something wet and sticky where I lay. What was it? Was I lying in a puddle? No, it wasn't raining. And it definitely wasn't water, no this was too warm and thick. It smelt almost metallic and was seeping through my clothes.

There was a dull throb as something- no, some _one_ faintly called my name . . . but I couldn't bring myself to listen. No, I was feeling . . . so sleepy. It was getting harder to . . . stay awake . . .

Fire suddenly flared up from my thigh and my eyes flew open. Screaming in agony, I twisted around to reach for my leg. My gaze was blurry at first, but slowly my eyes were able to focus on my thigh. Or rather what was _in_ my thigh.

A huge shard of glass.

I froze. My heart dropped.

Looking around, I found the multiple shards surrounding me were of glass. Shards of glass lay on the floor like a thousand tiny daggers, the light from the sun violently shining off them.

My eyes landed on the gaping window not a few feet in front of me. That's where they came from - the window! I realised that I currently lay in the middle of a random restaurant. Thankfully, the owners and customers had long fled as I was the only one here.

My eyes widened. The Mutant! Where was it?

I had to get out of here.

I tried to crawl on my hands and knees, but a sharp pain lanced through my thigh. I couldn't bite down on my lip in time to stop myself from crying out. My eyes fell on the glass that had sunken deep into my deep into my thigh. My healing - my body wouldn't be able to heal itself with that still in there.

My heart throbbed with fear and something wet stung my eyes.

My teeth clattered so I quickly bit down on my lip to control it.

Stop being such a baby, Helga. It's just like ripping off a band aid.

Fighting away the bitter voice at the back of my head that argued that _no, this was nothing like ripping off a_ _band aid_ , I reached out a shaking hand. I grasped the shard tightly, ignoring when the skin broke and crimson slithered down the shard's edges. Instead I took in a breath, closing my eyes, and attempted to control my racing heart.

 _Now_.

Pain. That's all I could feel. A white, blinding hot pain. Searing fiery bursts pulsated from my leg. It was jarring, it was brutal. My bloody muscle quivered. Tears made their way down my red cheeks. Black mists swirled at the edges of my mind, but I blinked both them and the water away. There was a hoarse, heart-shattering scream and, with horror, I realised that it was mine.

My hand let go of the still intact shard immediately. I waited for the pulses to pass with a heaving chest, but they didn't. They spread further. I choked back a sob, clutching my hands to my chest and squeezing my eyes shut tight.

I suddenly became aware of a biting sensation coming from both my shoulder and cheek. My shoulder blade felt wet and stick. Something was rising from my eye, I felt it swelling. Touching a hand to my cheek, I realised it was a welt . . . _from before._

Tears spilled down my face and dribbled down my chin as the reality hit me hard. This was real . . . _all_ of this. This was all very real. My being a Guardian . . . it wasn't about prancing around like a superhero. It wasn't about having millions of fans who believed in you. It wasn't about the cool powers and abilities. It wasn't even about the talking cat. None of that mattered - what mattered was . . . I could get hurt . . . I could _die._

I didn't want to be a Guardian anymore.

_Please someone help me!_

I wanted to go home.

_. . . Arnold. Please._

Footsteps. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear footsteps. But . . . where? Who was it?

Something told me to get away.

Biting my lip, I climbed onto my hands and knees and began crawling. The sharp pain flaring up almost made me stop but I forced myself to keep going. I needed to keep going.

Chuckling. A low rumble of chuckling came from behind me but I didn't pay it any mind. "Didn't even last ten minutes," the voice scoffed, disappointed. "Seven, in fact."

I gritted my teeth but stayed silent.

Something smashed into the back of my skull, knocking me flat onto my stomach. Nausea twisted in my stomach as the edges of my vision began darkening. My shoulder was dragged round so that I lay on my back, staring up into the Mutant's eyes. It's red eyes darkened and the corner of it's mouth tilted up. Clearly it found my pain to be amusing.

It's vines laced around my throat and squeezed. The Mutant's face loomed over mine - psychotic. My vision began to blur and I felt sick.

 _Nel,_ I thought weakly, _I think this one you may have underestimated._

The pressure around my neck got tight and tighter. Seconds passed and it became more difficult to breathe. I could feel my body leaving the ground as the Mutant dragged me up into the air, bringing me closer to it's face. A psychotic grin stretched from ear to ear. My blood ran cold.

My breaths came out as harsh gasps. The spots were getting bigger and clouding my vision. My heart was booming in my chest. My fingers brushed against something - something sharp.

"It's a shame you didn't last a little longer," the Mutant's voice was teasing, taunting me. "You may have been pathetically weak, but you sure were amusing. I'm sure my Master would've-"

I brought the shard of glass up without hesitation. It sliced clean across the Mutant's body. It didn't scream, plead or even cry. No, it stood there, frozen, it's eyes glazed over in shock as green began to ooze out of it's wounds. The pressure from my neck was gone and I scrambled out of it's grasp.

The Mutant blinked. Then frowned. Suddenly, it realised the danger it was in. But before it could so much as blink, I leapt into action. Driving my closed fist into the Mutant's eye, it fell to the ground in a heap. I was on top of it immediately, stradling it's waist, and racing the shard of glass, drenched in the Mutant's blood. In a last attempt to save itself, it's hands came up, spread out across it's face, and it let out a strangled scream. It's eyes were full of terror, but I wasn't feeling particularly merciful.

The shard of glass, clutched so tightly in my hands that my red blood mixed with the green, fell and rose, over and over again. The screams were swallowed by the third time it came down, but I didn't care. The screams . . . they were replaced with a sickening wet thud every time the sard came back down.

All I could see and feel was red. My body ached and cried out for me to stop. My wounds at this point were all burning in sync, especially my thigh. The adrenaline was dying down and now that the shard was out, it's thundering pulses were getting harder and harder to ignore.

Through the blurred red, I became aware that someone was calling out to me. There was a tiny padding of feet - I counted. Four, there were two pairs of feet. But didn't stop. I could stop.

The shard just kept coming down onto the Mutant's face. Or what was left of it. There was too much blood, too much flesh - I couldn't tell anymore. At some point, the shard of glass, drenched in a mix of our blood, slipped from my grasp, but I didn't let that stop me. Balling up my fists, I threw shaky punches. As my fists sunk into the flesh, I began letting out strangled cries that got louder and louder.

I had to make sure he- no, _it_ was dead. The bastard. That fucking bastard-

Something knocked into the side of my head, ramming me off the mangled corpse and back onto the ground, landing on my hip. Fighting the spinning world, I climbed shakily onto my hands and knees. My knife was suddenly at my side - I didn't question where it came from and quickly seized it. Turning back to the Mutant, I raised the knife high in the air-

"Helga, _no_!"

Nel suddenly leapt in the way, blocking my path. I froze, my hand stopping just an inch from her body. She looked up at me boldly, breathing loudly. She didn't look scared . . . she looked both determined yet sad. Almost heartbroken as she examined my face.

"N-Nel?" my voice came out as a whisper. It sounded just how I felt - small, delicate and broken.

Nel's eyes were full of tenderness and concern. "Yes, Helga. It's me. It's alright."

I stared at her, my breath coming out short and fast. "N-Nel, it tried to-" My words faltered when my eyes fell on my arms.

Blood.

A mixture of red and green swirled together and made a murky, brown colour. My hands were covered in it. Both my arms and clothes were splattered in it. I could only imagine how mad I looked. I must've looked crazy, insane . . . like some type of killer.

The knife fell to the ground.

Nel took a hesitant step, her eyes questioning. "Helga?"

My hands trembled violently. My eyes weren't on the knife that fell to the tiles. My eyes weren't even on the mangled body. No, they were on my own pale hands, drenched in our blood. Now that the blood lust was gone, my mind was left reeling, questioning why I had one that? Why had I lost it like that?

A small sob worked its way from my throat. I crumbled to my knees, my eyes not slipping from my hands. My bloody hands.

Nel moved closer and softly placed a reassuring paw on my thigh. "Helga," she spoke quietly, as if she feared that if she spoke to loudly I would explode. At this point, I wasn't quite sure if she was wrong. "Helga, we have to go. The police will be here soon."

I wanted to badly to tell her that I didn't care. That for once, being a Guardian wasn't on my mind. I didn't _want_ any of this on my mind. I didn't want to be a superhero . . . I had just murdered someone in cold blood. Even if it was a Mutant, it still had a beating heart and flesh, just like me.

But, I knew Nel was looking out for us. Both of us.

Sirens rang through the air, getting louder and louder.

Nel gave me a reassuring nod.

Pushing my shoulders back, I nodded back.

It was time for Blue Jay to disappear.

* * *

Red and blue illuminated the main road of Hillwood as police sirens flickered on and off. The strobing lights revealed the fear that shone on their faces as they demanded answers. Massive crowds stood behind barricades, arms stretched out to their fellow policemen with their microphones, cameras and phones. There were so many people down there - reporters, ambulances, police officers, but most were civilians dressed in their pyjamas. I spotted faces peering from building windows as they watched the scene below with a mild fascination.

All at once, the people's voice spoke in loud bellows as they demanded what had attacked not so long ago. Where was the girl? The girl who called herself Blue Jay and declared herself protector of the city. Where had she gone? Why wouldn't she answer their questions? Some protector, she was.

I watched the spectacle with a small smile. I couldn't figure why I was smiling, as there was certainly nothing to be happy about. The smile didn't feel joyful in the slightest, instead if felt bitter. Bitter and full of envy. How I wished I could like them, demanding answers, remaining so ignorant of everything that had started.

I gave a little chuckle. Ignorance was bliss, I guess.

"Helga," Nel's voice was quiet, full of worried, as she sat behind me. Instantly, my smile was gone and a frown grew in it's place, my fists balled by my side. But I didn't look over my shoulder. I kept my gaze below me, watching the demanding crowd. "I . . . I think we should get going. It'd be wise if we went back home. Your leg should heal soon enough after it's wash."

Nel was right.

But I didn't tell her that.

I didn't say anything.

I shifted my weight. The pain had dulled some time ago, before it'd gotten dark. I could barely feel a thing anymore. Still, Nel insisted that it was better to go home to take care of everything. But, for some reason, I had found myself reluctant to go back.

It was almost funny. Not a few hours ago, I had wished so desperately on everything I owned to get back home. However, now that felt unwilling.

Why would I want to go back to a house full of people who cared little for my existence? No, thanks. Today had been hard enough. I don't think I could manage having Bob yell at me for whatever it was I had done this time. There was always something. And, if there wasn't, he would just ignore my existence completely. Normally, I could deal with that (hell, it probably was for the best they didn't ask any questions), but tonight . . . I just couldn't.

Not yet, at least.

The wind threaded itself through my crimson soaked hair, blowing it gently around my shoulders.

Leaning back onto my hands, I pulled my leg to my chest. My injured leg dangled in the air over the edge of the building I sat on. Everyone was so preoccupied with their questions that no one spotted the subject of their demands sitting in the shadows above them. No one saw the masked hero they were so curious about watching them from above.

"I guess this is it," I whispered to myself.

Nel was at my side. "Excuse me, Helga?"

I smiled at her with anything but joy. "This is it," I declared boldly. Leaning forward, I dug my elbows into my thighs (avoiding the wound in my thigh) and placed my chins in my palms. "This is my life now, huh?"

Nel didn't reply at first. She looked down at the people hounding the police with questions. "I'm sorry," she finally spoke, sounding just as broken as I felt.

I knew Nel's apology was sincere. She was genuinely sorry. I desperately wanted to forgive her. A part of me already did. After all, Nel didn't decide who became a Guardian, she could only sense them. And, given there were only four, she didn't have the resources to pick which one she wanted. Not when we were going to have to fight against an entire army.

But, at the same time, part of my blamed her.. That part of me I hated. I knew that, with what had happened today, I had really scared Nel, possibly more then I'd scared myself. In just a second, I had morphed into a bloodthirsty killer. I wasn't the hero everyone deemed so highly, I wasn't Wonder Woman, I was . . . a villain. Yet, a part of me couldn't help blaming Nel for it. After all, if she hadn't contacted me, I would never, in my wildest dreams, thought I was capable of _that_.

My hands twitched. I could still feel . . .

I reached out towards Nel. The feline flinched, but I surprised her by laying my flat palm gently onto her scalp. She gave me a startled look as I scratched between her ears with a hollow smile. Nel hesitated, but spoke anyway. "Helga, about your powers-"

"I'm on my own now," I tore my gaze from hers, the sad smile still at my lips, as my hands fell gently to my side. My eyes were on the sky above me, studying the thousands and millions of bright specks.

I suddenly felt my chest tighten. My mouth trembled and my shoulders heaved. I let loose a small sigh, I knew what was happening.

"Um, Nel?" I cleared my throat to cover up the shakiness. Keeping my eyes above us, I made it look like I was admiring the stars when really I was avoiding her gaze. "Could . . . could I have a moment alone, please? You know, to think and stuff. Got a lot on my mind, y'know."

The laugh I added didn't fool anyone.

Nel knew what I was really asking. I wasn't really asking to think about this, I was asking her to . . .

"O-Of course, Helga," Nel sounded hesitant as she climbed to her feet. She gave me a concerned look before padding away. She readied herself to leap onto the fire escape before turning back to me, her eyes shimmering with concern. "A-Are you sure you want you be alone, Helga?"

Clenching my clattering teeth, I beamed falsey at her. I didn't speak, I didn't trust my voice. So, wordlessly I nodded.

And she was gone.

With another concerned look, Nel leapt off into the night.

And I was left alone.

I allowed the guise to fade, the smile slipping from my face as my gaze fell back onto the growing crowd of concerned civilians. I spotted a familiar football-shaped head sprouting blond hair, standing with two familiar faces - Gerald and . . . _Phoebe._ I gritted my teeth. How did she escape her parents?

All three of them wore various looks of confusion as they demanded questions from nearby officers.

I quickly tore my gaze from my best friend's figure, feeling something pierce my heart. That girl . . . she believed in me so much, declared such a bold hope in me . . . but I wasn't what she thought I was.

I wasn't a hero. I wasn't this city's protection. I could barely protect myself, how the hell could I protect Hillwood, let alone the world.

I looked down at my hand, holding my palm up to my face. It shook ever so slightly as I gently examined it.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the wave of frustration that hit me, I balled it up into a tight fist and blindly swung at the ground. Biting my lip, I held back a cry as ripples of pain stung my a moment, I simply sat there, cradling my injured knuckles to my chest and holding back pathetic whimpers.

Letting loose another howl of frustration, I swung again at the ground. The pain doubled this time, but I blindly ignored it. I ignored how the joints of my knuckles burnt, and I most certainly ignored the sharp _crunch_! sound they made upon making contact with the ground. I threw another punch with my other hand. Then another, and another and another.

Punch after punch, searing pain shot up from my knuckles to my shoulders, but I was well beyond caring. I lost track of how many hits I blindly threw at the ground. I felt disconnected from my body. Instead, I focused on keeping the water from falling down my cheeks, on keeping the sobs concealed within my tightening chest.

Soon enough, I was left with two bloody knuckles. The sharp stinging that pulsated through my hands was forgotten, pushed into the darkest depths of my mind. At some point, I realised my mission to keep the tears from running down my face failed, but I could care less. I reasoned that perhaps the tears would help wash out the blood.

Broken sobs wracked through my chest as tears streamed down my cheeks. Slowly I lowered my head until my forehead was pressed up against the ground. Tightly shutting my eyes, I covered my head with my arms as I attempted to shield myself from the pain.

I was trembling - I couldn't stop. Even as I pressed my forehead further into the ground, wanting so badly to just disappear, I shook. I trembled.

I couldn't stop . . . I couldn't stop.

Why couldn't I stop crying?

Clutching my bleeding hands to my chest, I held them tightly squeezed in a small ball. At first my sobs were stifled, as if some part of me wanted to hide my grief. But, overcome by the wave of emotions, I broke down entirely. My defenses washed away with the salty tears that dribbled down my chin. "Why?" I whispered. My voice was so broken and sounded so raw.

My powers . . . I thought by now, they'd surely . . .

* * *

" _-and, with enough practise and training, you should be able to hold up multiple shields at a time. Hopefully."_

_I gawked at the talking cat perched on top of my bed. "Rewry?"_

_Nel rolled her eye, unimpressed. "Do try to restrain yourself from speaking with your mouthful, Helga," She wrinkled her nose as she took in the toothbrush sticking out from my mouth and the dripping foam hanging from my chin that resembled a Santa beard. "You are not five years old."_

_I rolled my eyes dramatically and turned back to face to my mirror. Examining my features, I smirked with both pride and amazement. The cut on my lip had long since completely healed and my cheeks were back to looking normal again. Most of the bruises were on their way to completely healing. Except, I remembered with a frown, the lump on the back of my head. Nel said that would take a day or two, given the size, but it should be gone relatively soon. I wanted to smack myself when she had told me that. She had acted nonchalant when she had explained it, but_ she _didn't have to go around with a lump the size of my fist on the back of her head._

_Leaning over the basin, I spat out my last mouthful of toothpaste and rinsed my mouth with a cup of water. After wiping my mouth on my fluffy, pink towel, I strolled in my room whistling a random tune and headed for my desk._

_As I sat myself down in my chair, I could feel Nel's curious gaze on me and sighed. "What?" I asked flatly, not bothering to look over my shoulder at her and instead glancing up at the ceiling._

" _I must confess, Helga," Nel began, apparently oblivious to my growing annoyance with her. What? The cat could bloody well chat your ear off! "I've only heard of Guardians with powers such as yours. I've never been there to witness them. Honestly, I'm feeling a little excited to begin your training."_

_I looked over my shoulder at her in shock. "Seriously?"_

_Nel nodded, actually looking_ giddy _, which was an odd look on her, honestly. "Oh, yes. I believe, if used wisely, your powers could aid you in becoming a very powerful Guardian. The possibilities could very well be endless."_

_Nel had my full attention and I swiveled around my chair to face her. Thoroughly interested in what the cat had to say, I couldn't stop the gigantic grin from spreading across my lips. Crossing my arms across my chest and placing my foot on top of my thigh, I leaned back in my chair. "Oh, really?"_

_Nel gave me a funny look, but nodded. "Yes. In fact, why wait to discover what you can do? Try activating your powers. Now."_

_Honey, at this point, with the amount of pride swelling in my chest, you'd have to physically restrain me from_ not _activating my powers._

_I practically leapt to my feet, eager to test my new abilities out. Of course, it couldn't hurt to prepare myself before my big show . . ._

_I began jumping on the balls of my feet and twisted my neck from side to side. Nel gave me an extremely worrying look, as if questioning my mental state. "Um, Helga, what on earth are you doing?"_

_I didn't answer her at first. Instead, I stopped bouncing on my feet and began rolling my shoulders while clearing my throat. "Oh, just a few exercises," I explained._

_Nel truly looked like she wanted to say something, but, with another sigh, chose to close her mouth and wait for me._

_Good choice._

_A few more seconds passed before I deemed myself fit to test out my new superpowers. The entire time my heart raced with an untamed excitement and my mind went a mile a minute thinking of new, fun things I could do with my powers._

_Clearing my throat again, I pushed my shoulders back and stuck my nose into the air. My arms hung by side, my hands curled into fists, and my feet were wide apart but stood strong._

_Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and mustered up whatever strength I could find that resembled what I'd felt not a few hours ago. I felt something tingly curl around in my stomach and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. Sliding a foot forward, I thrusted both my arms in front of me . . ._

_I frowned._

_Pulling my arms close to my chest, I shot them back out again, my palms pointed towards Nel._

_Nothing happened._

_So, I tried again. Then a third time. Then a fourth. It was when, during the fifth time, that nothing happened that I began to worry._

_I narrowed my eyes. What the heck was going on?_

_Arms still stretched out in front of me, I shot Nel a questioning look. Nel herself looked a little stuck for answers. She had a hard look of concentration on her face as her eyes traced over my arms. I knew that, if she had hands, she'd be stroking her chin right now, as if she had a beard._

_That was a weird mental image._

_Shaking my head and focusing on the issue here, I asked her, "Um, Nel, where the heck did my powers go?"_

_Nel ducked her head lower, letting out a small 'hmm' noise._

_Her lack of answer failed to calm me and instead launched me into a panic. "Don't tell me I lost them!" I demanded, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "I mean, that's not fair! I only had them for, what, ten minutes, tops? I almost died tonight, had it not been for them! How am I supposed to be a Guardian without-?"_

_At some point during my mini-ranting, I had begun pacing up and down the length of my room, my hands flying madly around me as I talked. "It's possible," Nel interrupted, not taking mind of my panicking. I stopped in my tracks and spun around so quickly I almost slipped in the process. I was eager to hear any theories she had to offer. "Because your powers are mentally based rather then physical they'd be harder to control."_

_I didn't respond to that, but, understanding the confused look on my face, Nel continued. "Because your powers are reliant on your concentration and willpower, they'd be much more difficult to control, then, say, something physical like enhanced speed."_

_I clucked my tongue, not entirely sure if I liked that answer. "So, what you're saying is that my powers_ haven't _disappeared, then?"_

" _What I'm saying is that, due to your power being tied down to your mental capabilities, they're likely to be quite unstable at first. They may seem difficult at first but, once they come back, you should eventually be able to learn to control them." Nel tried to sound sure of herself, tried to cover up the hesitance with confidence, but I could tell she wasn't quite as sure as she'd have me believe. "In the meantime, we're going to have to work on your other abilities as a Guardian. With some training, of course."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Sounds fun," I muttered dryly, crossing my arms over my chest._

_Nel frowned up at me. "This is not supposed to be_ fun _, Helga," she spat out the word 'fun' as if it were a disease. "This is serious. You're the only Guardian I've found and your powers are, for the moment, inactive. Though I'm quite sure they'll come back soon, we shouldn't just sit back with our feet up and wait for them to return. No, we should begin training. We simply don't have_ time _to relax with Acantha coming . . ."_

_As Nel began to prattle on, stressing exactly how important it was that I remained in tip top shape, and that we should start our training as quickly as possible, I tuned her out. That black cat was such a chatterbox that she didn't even realise that I had completely blocked her and her British nagging out._

_My eyes remained on my hands. I held them up to my face, palms facing up, examining them. I'm not sure what I expected to happen, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed. Perhaps I had hoped for a blue light right then and there to shine from my palms, just as it had during my fight. I hoped that, like before, my powers would save me. But, nothing happened. There was no blue light, no hairs standing on the back of my neck and no exhilarating feelings. Nothing - just my plain, calloused palms._

_I frowning. Where were my powers?_

_They had showed up earlier tonight, why weren't they doing so now?_

_. . . would they come back?_

_I swallowed loudly, feeling my heart throb. It was only thanks to luck that I had made it out alive tonight from that fight. The force behind that Mutant's punch easily could've killed me, or at least seriously wounded me. Without my powers to save me like they had tonight . . . I felt vulnerable. I felt, almost, scared._

_My hands fell limply to my side as my gaze lowered to my feet. Or rather, my bruised feet. Turns out my feet hated those shoes about as much as I did, if the blisters were anything to go by._

_Something gripped tightly at my heart and I felt something well up in my eyes. Knowing fully well what it was, I hurriedly blinked them away, turning away from Nel. Fortunately, she was so thoroughly wrapped up in her lecture, she didn't notice anything._

_I would not cry._

_I refused._

_There was no reason to act like a sissy. Nel said we would begin training tomorrow. Though I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of basically having to run around in a leotard for hours after school, I trusted that Nel knew what she was doing. Even if my - I grimaced at the thought - powers didn't return, with strength as great as Nel described, I was far from powerless._

_Shaking the dark thoughts that plagued my mind like a heavy cloud, I tried, for once, focusing on the lighter side. Yes, as a Guardian, my abilities were considerably more powerful then when I was normal, boring Helga. I could feel the strength thriving through my body as well as the sense of freedom that, as Blue Jay, I was no longer tied down to my regular weaknesses. Being Blue Jay, being a Superhero, felt exhilarating, if not for the powers, then for the pride I felt when saving someone else. At actually getting something done, if only barely._

_I felt the corners of my mouth turn up. Yes, even without the aid of my force fields, I was far from weak. Besides, more then likely, they'd spring back when I truly needed them, just like tonight._

_I nodded to myself._

_Yes, they'd come back._

_I knew it._

* * *

But they hadn't.

I slowly opened my eyes and uncurled myself from my position, sitting up on my knees and wrapping my arms around my torso.

My powers . . . hadn't shown up today, when I had most needed them. I had almost died believing they would.

What type of superhero loses her powers?

. . . was I even a superhero? Did a superhero really murder someone like that in cold blood? I could only imagine what would happen if that had been caught on camera. Their so called hero losing it mentally after her second day and killing a Mutant in cold blood.

I bit my lip.

For a moment, the face of the man I had saved today flashed through my mind. I blinked. Yes, that was right. I _had_ saved him, hadn't I? And many others. I'd saved many, many people tonight, that I couldn't deny.

That was my job now, as a superhero. As the town's Wonder Woman. As Blue Jay.

Slowly, I climbed to my feet. The wind blew in my hair ever so gently and my fists balled tightly by my side in an attempt to hide the trembling. I walked to the edge of the building and peered down the main road, where so many people stood, so confused and begging for answers.

My eyes found the familiar tussle of blond hair, standing amongst the confused crowd.

" _I am Blue Jay, Defender of Earth and Guardian of Hillwood!"_

Those words I had spoken today . . . I don't know where they had come from. But I promised myself I would live up to them. I would protect the people of this city, of this world. I would do everything within my power, with or without the aid of my superpowers, to save everyone.

But, a small voice in the back of my head spoke, who was gonna save _me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . see why it's getting changed to an M? Yowza, that got tense. No one said being a magical girl was gonna be easy. And THAT most certainly is not.
> 
> Okay, so wow, y'all now should have a firmer grasp on my interpretation of teenaged Helga. Even without the whole superhero thing happening, she's already dealing with some type of anxiety/depression issh. This whole superhero thing is not gonna make it any easier. I dunno, looking at Helga's life at home and how she acts to others, I see her becoming extremely isolated from her peers as well as going through some very personal issues that she won't let anyone in on (in this case, Phoebe).
> 
> Also, y'all may have noticed that Phoebe has somewhat changed to. Now she's more assertive, giggly and less minion-y to Helga. Why? Because that's how I see her growing up. As a child, clearly she's extremely timid, patient and a push over. Even with Helga, she acted moreso like a minion then a friend. As a teenager, I do see Phoebe growing out of this. I mean, good God - the girl is in high school! No one has time to be anyone's minion! I see, as Phoebe matures, so does her friendship with Helga. It's less minion-like, since I don't think anyone acts like that in real life. Also, Phoebe is Helga's only friend, so I feel like Helga would treat her with a little more respect and affection now. DON'T GET ME WRONG, PHOEBE IS STILL SHY, but around Helga, her best friend, she'd be more assertive and confident, if that makes sense.
> 
> So, after completely unnecessary analysis of Phoebe, I hope y'all understand that if any character turns up from the show and acts OOC, it't not necessarily because of ignorance, but my interpretation of how the character would have changed. I mean, the cartoon was set when the characters were kids - they're teenagers now. People change, especially as teenagers. There's no reason, it's just life. No one stays exactly the same and I'm refusing to write the characters exactly how they were in the show when they were nine (I think?)
> 
> Phoebe's not as timid, Arnold's not quite as innocent and Helga as a shit tonne of emotional issues she needs to deal with. So, in short, if a character may see OOC, it's more then likely my interpretation of how I see them as teenagers. Like Nadine. Oh my god, I cannot wait to write Nadine, she's probably my favourite so far (I know, I haven't written her but I have a vision!)
> 
> Also, can I just say that I fucking love writing Ms. Ainsley? She's gotta be my favourite character so far. I'm not sure if it came across as this, but she's actually a mix of Sergeant Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph and the Coach from Teen Wolf. I love both those characters and think they're among the best things from their respective media. I dunno, when envision Ms. Ainsley, she just struck me as a mixture of these character - y'know, hardcore, aggressive, intimidating but also completely out of line in her job, selfish and willing to take her anger out on her students. I dunno, I just enjoyed writing her and I hope you enjoyed reading her.
> 
> ALSO MASSIVE THANKS TO THE COMMENTS I RECEIVED, Y'ALL ABSOLUTELY MADE MY DAY~!


	4. Babysitting Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . . hehehe . . . hi, y'all, how yous doing? Say, did you do something different with your hair? *dodges flying tomatoes* OKAY, I'M SORRRRRRY. I didn't realise how much time had actually passed between now and my last update - I swear, I blinked then suddenly half the year was gone. If it helps, I was totes plagued with my guilt - no, seriously, I even had a dream about this story. But anywhooties, let's not fret about it now, shall we, hmmmm? Let's just all be happy that I finally got off my ass to finish this, hmmmm?  
>  I should probs give a trigger warning for this chappie - there's some seriously emotionally dark shit, so if y'all can't handle that you probs shouldn't read this one.  
> ANYWAY LETS GET ON WITH THIS TRAIN WRECK, SHALL WE?

The television was sole source of light in the Pataki household.

It's wide, rectangular screen cast a brilliant strip of light that stretched across the floor. Light bounced off furniture and cast shadows that danced along the walls.

There was one shadow in particular that reached the wall opposite the television. This shadow was the largest and blocked that harsh TV rays from striking the wall. The shadow belonged to a girl snuggled in a pink, fluffy blanket, eyes locked on the flickering screen. She was safely cocooned in her quilt, but felt anything but safe. Her stare was expressionless, and her blank eyes remained unblinkingly on the changing images.

That girl was me.

The clock above read 3:49 am – well past my bedtime. Yet here I remained, sitting closely to the TV with the volume low enough not to wake anyone, but loud enough that I could understand what they said

Nel was curled tightly by my side, oblivious to what they said about us – about me.

"–no footage of the conflict, some eyewitnesses have claimed to have seen her limping from the area before authorities could arrive," the TV news anchor reported. "Despite the considerable damage left to the main roads and several nearby shops, the self-titled Blue Jay managed to not only kill the beast, but prevent further causalities. After authorities arrived, an anonymous informant claimed to have seen her on top of the Suncrest Apartments . . ."

Kill.

It cut through me like a blade. I felt like I'd swallowed broken glass, and someone had wrapped a chain around my stomach, pulling tighter and tighter . . .

Screams rang in my ears. Large, red eyes pierced from the back of my mind.

I shuddered. Closing my eyes, I clasped my ears with shaking hands. I'd killed someone . . . I'd looked into their eyes and savagely ended their life.

I was only sixteen.

"–your thoughts on Blue Jay?"

My heart sunk into my shifting stomach.

Why was I watching this? Seeing these images again, hearing people recount my nightmares, only brought forth a colossal wave of memories I wanted to forget.

"I, uh, don't know much about her," a younger face admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. He looked about nineteen or tent; orange strands of hair peaked out form his grey beanie. "But from what I've seen on YouTube, she seems really cool."

"I love Blue Jay!" It cut to another face, one of a girl around twelve with braided dark hair and excited green eyes. "She has such awesome superpowers!"

"She really kicked that alien thingy to hell and back," Another woman nodded in approval; she had lilac, ear-length hair that contrasted with her dark skin and black lipstick. "She's just like Sailor Moon!"

I sucked in an astonished breath. My heart raced with a sudden warmth. They believed in me – in Blue Jay. They'd only seen her fight once, but somehow were approving to the idea of her – even after yesterday. Their words felt like bright stars piercing the dark sky. Was this what it felt like to have other people believe in you?

The corners of my mouth lifted into a small smile.

"No, I don't like her."

The smile slowly shrank.

"And why's that, sir?"

"Because she's just one girl," the man shrugged. He was an overweight man with a fringe of grey hair circling his balding scalp. "And young. Much too young to have any experience."

"You don't think she has the experience?"

"No, I do not."

"Could you tell us why?"

"Well, as I've said," he explained, crossing his arms, "she's very young. It's impossible she'd have proper experience concerning something like this."

A similarly aged woman, probably his wife, nodded her head. "I most certainly wouldn't trust her–" my nails dug sunk into my flesh "–we know nothing about her, nor who she is . . . besides our police have had proper years in training."

"Yes," the man sternly nodded in agreement. "I trust the police. They've been professionally trained for years. This woman on the other hand – this so called 'blue jay' or whatever – she's just one person. A girl. And it's in my and my wife's opinion that, give or take a few weeks, if she's not dead, she'll be useless. I guarantee it. She's nothing but a pretty fake – a poser claiming our police's jobs. Mark my words, she won't las–"

The screen paused for a millisecond. Then, quick as a flash, the image shrank into nothing, plunging the TV into darkness.

The remote clattered to my feet.

I sat with no strength to move. My shaky fingers ran through my dishevelled hair. I bit down on my lip.  _Pretty fake, pretty fake, she's nothing but a pretty fake–_

This wasn't helping. It wouldn't change anything. I didn't have my powers, they weren't coming back – but it was my job to protect everyone.

" _Ms. Blue Jay saved us from whatever that thing was last night . . . I think we should be grateful for her–"_

"– _seems really cool–"_

"– _just like Sailor Moon–"_

"– _I love Blue Jay–"_

"– _Blue Jay represents a protection that ourselves can't provide–"_

Pretty fake. He called me a pretty fake. Was that all I was? A girl playing dress up and pretending to be a hero? I was only sixteen, I had no idea what I was doing. He was right – I was just a pretty fake, pretending to be strong, running around and claiming the police's jobs.

Ducking my head between my knees, my nails dug into my scalp as I hissed curses. What was I doing? They may have placed their injudicious into her – into Blue Jay – but, at the end of the day, who was I really? Helga. Helga G. Pataki. The nobody girl no one liked. Would they still believe in her if they knew it was me? Would they really feel so secure, so safe, knowing that it was a stupid teenager running around protecting hem?

Something was crushing my ribs. It was hard to breathe. I wanted to scream, but I would wake everyone. I couldn't get in anyone's way. I wouldn't get in their way. Not that they'd care. They couldn't see it – no one could They couldn't see this weight slowly crushing me to death.

_Pretty fake. Pretty fake. She's a pretty fake._

It felt like someone was crushing my heart. The darkness was growing darker, the pain sharper – it all grew as I felt my mind plummet and descend further into the unknown.

_If she's not dead, she'll be useless._

_Dead._

_In a few weeks – she'll be dead–_

" – _she saved us. She – Blue Jay protected us against that thing, whatever it was. I just think it's admirable, y'know?"_

My heart thundered.

_I just think it's admirable . . . Blue Jay protected us._

Arnold.

He believed in Blue Jay. He admired her. He had faith in her. He liked her. Blue Jay – not Helga. Helga was his puny stalker who cruelly bullied him when they were children. But Blue Jay – she saved everyone. She single-handedly defeated two Mutants, one without powers. She was a force to be reckoned with – she was his hero.

I lifted my head.

He believed in a strong superwoman, a brave, selfless woman with undefeatable strength.

They all did.

And, if that's what they believed in, that's what I'd be.

I'll become her – the perfect woman.

I just had to keep pushing myself.

The air seemed heavier as pressure pushed onto my chest. My body reacted before my mind did; standing up, I made my way to the door, picking up my school blazer from the armchair.

I needed a walk–

" _Did you see the way she left? Not a hint of concern for anyone . . . she's just taking credit for the cop's jobs . . ."_

–an extremely  _long_ walk.

* * *

Saying my night was restless would be an understatement.

My walk was meant to be an hour, but lasted for several. By the time I made it back, the sunlight had risen from the horizon and its weak rays kissed the pavement. I had two hours before I'd have to get up for school. But any sleep was better than none and I clumsily stumbled up the stairs, not caring if I woke anyone.

Nel must've woken during my walk, because, when I'd opened my door, there she was – curled up atop my blankets, sound asleep. She didn't wake as I shut the door, so I was free to collapse without hearing any of her long lectures. Though, honestly, even if she had been awake to give me one, I would've fallen asleep anyway.

I'd had two hours to sleep, but only managed one. The first was spent restlessly moving around, finding a comfortable position. But no matter how much I moved, my body continued to cry from the pressure, leaving me awake and staring at the roof.

By the time I managed to close my eyes, Olga burst in, screeching that I'd be late if I didn't get up now

So, I reluctantly got up and readied myself for school, purposely ignoring Olga questioning when we'd gotten a cat.

Getting ready was much more difficult with my lack of sleep. Or coordination. But, considering the past forty-eight hours, I think I pulled it off decently. Not that Nel cared to agree.  _"Helga, your socks do not go on your hands."_  I knew that. Who was to say that wasn't originally my intention? Wearing one's socks on one's feet was awfully conventional. For all she knew, I was rebelling against the societal norms of sock-wearing by preferring my hands over feet.

Yes, I'm entirely aware that my argument is lousy, but, as earlier state, I'd barely gotten an hour of sleep.

"Hey, Arnold, you gonna be able to make it this afternoon?"

My tired eyes found two familiar figures sitting at the front of the bus. One had ridiculously tall hair and the other an oblong-shaped head. But, for once, my heart was too exhausted to jump at the sight of my fair prince.

Arnold smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Gerald, I can't. I'm babysitting today."

"You serious, man?" Gerald groaned, throwing back his head dramatically. "Again?"

"Yeah, sorry, Gerald."

Sighing, the dark-skinned male leaned against the window and rested his head in his folded hands. "Is it that weird kid again?"

Arnold's forehead creased at Gerald's dismissal, but he nonetheless nodded. "Yeah, it's George."

"Man," Gerald sighed, shutting his eyes. "I don't know why you put up with that kid."

"Because, Gerald," Arnold frowned. "George is a good kid – just a little shy is all."

Gerald apparently heard his friend's biting tone and opened his eyes, scanning Arnold's posture. A few seconds passed when Gerald gave a shrug and turned from Arnold's narrowed eyes. "Whatever you say, Arnold . . ."

Something hot burnt deep in my system and bubbled in my stomach. The heat began shifting, sliding and climbing up my body, wrapping tightly around my neck and restricting my breath. Looking down, I realised that the veins in my clenched fists were bulging.

I frowned. Why am I doing that – was I angry? Why? Certainly not if Arnold was involved. I could never remain angry at such a beautiful creature. He was too exemplary to commit such a sin.

. . . unless–

"Did you do Mrs. Garland's homework?" Arnold looked back to his friend, with his green eyes completely devoid of anger. It was as if he had forgotten their previous conversation.

"Homework?" Gerald's eyebrows drew together as he faced his friend. " _What_ homework?"

" _The_  homework, Gerald," Arnold rolled his eyes. "The homework she gave us on Monday . . . that's due  _today._ "

" _What?!_ "Gerald's eyes almost popped out of his skull as his voice escalated. Several nearby students jumped and turned to give him disapproving, annoyed looks. Arnold blushed, squirming underneath the attention his friend received. "Aww, man, you serious?"

Arnold nodded, eyes shifting. "Yeah, man."

Sighing, Gerald knocked the back of his skull against the window and shut his eyes. "Aww, shit man," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This really bites."

Arnold squirmed when Pete's eyes turned to glare at the boys in his mirror, probably because he heard the collision of Gerald's skull against his precious windows. Shifting his gaze from the angry driver, Arnold looked in another direction when his eyes found mine. Emerald on bronze, I held my breath behind clamped lips, ignoring how my heart quaked in delight. But it wasn't just delight that made it shake, there was something else – something heavier.

Arnold blinked, oblivious to my turmoil, then slowly a crooked grin spread across his lips as he waved, eyes twinkling.

And, like a brick, it hit me.

Heart-stricken, I turned to the window and watched the blurring landscape. In the reflection, I saw Arnold frown then shrug nonchalantly as he turned back to Gerald.

Eyes downcast, I realised why I was feeling like this; why my stomach lurched every time Arnold conversed with Gerald, why every time he so much as smiled it felt like someone had torn a chunk from my heart, why I wanted to break down in tears when witnessing how innocently his eyes sparkled–

I was jealous.

I was jealous of the simplicity in Arnold's life. His world was so perfect; he was surrounded by people he loved, got along with everyone and seemed to have a personality crafted by the Gods

When he smiled, it felt like it shone from his soul, like no part of him was upset. Arnold didn't have any mannerisms that suggested the damage he experienced was even happening; right down to his micro-expression, Arnold was perfection carved from delicate, angelic hands.

I had always been envious of his ability to just smile and make everything alright. I desperately wanted to possess his endless optimism and kindness. As a child, I wanted to not just be  _with_  him, but to  _be_  him. I wanted to be popular, likable and optimistic, I wanted to have a family who loved me, I wanted to walk into a room with such an ecstatic glow that everyone would be forced to stop and stare.

I'd sell my soul to walk in his shoes, even for a day. To live with his perfectly flawed family, surrounded by loved ones. There were so many people that loved Arnold, it felt that with every day that passed a new person fell in love with him.

Why couldn't that be me?

Why was I stuck defending the world from these aliens? Nel said there were more Guardians, but, at the rate we were going, it was me verses thousands – alone.

And after what happened yesterday . . .

_Boots trampling, I run but keep coming back to the same spot. A light shone upwards ahead – that must be the way out. I start walking when a sudden movement catches my eye. I spin around, but find nothing but murky blackness._

_Time passes, I'm not sure how much – perhaps seconds, but equally hours._

_I shrug and turn around to a hideously, distorted face baring teeth centimetres from my nose. I scream, reeling back, but my muscles have frozen – I'm stuck, staring up with wide, fearful eyes._

_It's lips curl up in a horrible smile as it raises a clawed hand, ready to strike. Snarling, it swings and–_

I jumped, eyes snapping open.

A small gasp escaped.

I blinked . . . the blurriness faded as the surroundings look crisper. Shutting my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose, urging my racing heart to calm. Had that just been a dream? It felt so real.

It felt as if someone had placed a branding iron to my thigh. I bit my lip, holding back the screams. Faintly, I could feel eyes turning in my direction, watching me in confusion, but I buried it beneath the searing throbbing.

Eventually, the scorching pain managed to dull and, groaning, I slammed my forehead onto the window. I didn't care for the annoyed glances thrown my way. I just prayed I hadn't reopened the wound. I shouldn't have, the stitches were decent, but  _still._

Shit, if I reopened them, Nel was gonna have my head on a platter – again. She was already mad that I'd taken a walk without informing her. Re-opening my wounds, therefore slowing the healing process, would only make today harder.

All I wanted was to go back to sleep; I wanted to get off the bus, walk home and bury myself in my thick blankets. I wanted to shut my eyes for the rest of the day. Hell, at this rate, I wanted to shut my eyes for the rest of the year. It certainly wouldn't be difficult.

My eyelids were slipping shut without permission. I was too exhausted to fight against their weight. The world blurred as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Random images floated aimlessly in endless pools of my thoughts.

The engine suddenly stopped. Several footsteps patted down the aisle. I groaned, it was time to get up. I counted to ten before slowly rising to my feet, shaky fingers pulling my bag onto my back, and stumbling down the aisle.

Eyelids fluttering shut, my focus began diminishing. Colours merged with one another as sounds faded. Darkness wrapped me up in a blanket, submerging me in a black current, sinking further and further from consciousness–

Something rammed into my shoulder.

I was knocked off my feet, flat on my back. Head smacking the ground, I groaned but didn't open my eyes. I wanted to stay here – it already wasn't my day, anyway.

There was a sharp intake of gasps. A heavy silence settled as, I could  _feel_ , several pairs of eyes turn in my direction. A familiar voice muttered a curse under his breath. My eyes snapped open – there, standing in front of me, was Arnold, looking down at me in horror, whilst Gerald, by his side, shifted uncomfortably, nervously glancing to his friend as he wrung his sweaty hands.

I furrowed my brows. Why were they so nervous?

Arnold held out his hands as if taming a bear. Disappointment punctured my gut. "Oh, geeze, shit – I'm sorry, Helga –I–I didn't see you," he apologised, choking on his words. "I – shit, are you okay?"

He continued to apologise, explaining how he hadn't seen me just  _stop_  in the middle of aisle. As he babbled, I sat up, ignoring his offered hand, and climbed to my feet. Brushing off the dust from my blazer, I interrupted him and, under my breath, muttered a quick, "Sorry."

Ducking my head, I didn't wait for a reply, if he had any. I heard several gasps of alarm, but kept my eyes downcast as I stumbled off the bus. There were numerous piercing stares boring into my back (I identified one of them as Pete, of all people), but didn't halt in my steps as I marched for the school's entrance.

Hearing the happy, chattering crowds as I stepped into the hallway, seeing everyone's smiles as they chatted with one another, or hearing their groans as they complained about the amount of homework they'd received, I don't think I've ever felt so lonely before in my life.

Typically, I had no qualms being alone; I like to walk down the halls alone. I like to eat my lunch alone, I like reading alone, I like riding the bus alone and I, most certainly, like walking home alone. But, as I passed the many students with happy, oblivious smiles plastered on their faces, I realised that even though I liked being alone . . . I didn't enjoy it.

* * *

I really tried to keep my eyes open. Honest.

But, as time slowly ticked away, it became more and more difficult.

Because, despite the outside world moving like a blur, it felt like time was purposely crawling on all fours when reaching the afternoon. Images became like a painting caught in the rain, sinking into a blurred fuzz as colours bled into another and formed a murky brown.

I couldn't count how many times my eyes managed to slip shut. My limbs felt heavy as my head lolled from one side to the other. When my eyes shut, I'd embrace the darkness before I'd be called forward to answer a question. I got them all incorrect, but I didn't care. In the past forty-eight hours, my life managed to chaotically transform into a destructive hurricane, carrying away all my cares and worries. Answering what a mitochondrion was, or perhaps its purpose – it all seemed futile now.

Mr. Kennedy hardly seemed to agree, as, by the sixth time I'd fallen asleep, he sent me out of the room. Soaking my face in his spittle, he gave me a detention for my 'laziness'.

Like I needed another detention. Yes, another. You see, I'd shown up to school wearing pants – rather then the mandatory skirt – which did not sit well with Ms. Firmin, who had demanded why I'd decided to 'rebel against the school's perfectly appropriate uniform'. I couldn't exactly tell her that I was Blue Jay and that the wound on my thigh would get a lot of people's attention, so wearing pants was altogether the easier option. So, I simply shrugged and mumbled, "I dunno", prompting her to give me a detention.

So, yes, now I had two afternoon detentions to serve – today and Friday.

Nel was gonna love that.

Standing in the hallway, waiting for Mr. Kennedy to speak with me, my foggy mind still swam with a departing dream. My eyes were slipping shut and I knew I couldn't keep this up. So, turning on my heels, I marched for the bathroom. Mr. Kennedy would likely blow a fuse once he realised I'd left, but . . .

Who cared, anyway?

* * *

The water was cold and refreshing.

As it ran from the faucet, I splashed my face.

I'd hoped that it would wash away my weariness and pull me away from my anxieties, but it did little to rouse me from the nightmares.

It was quiet in the bathroom. There were no chattering girls complaining about unfair teachers, no clacking footsteps crossing the room, no flushing toilets – just me. The silence was thick and, although being alone was ultimately what I preferred, it unsettled me.

Turning off the tap, I rubbed my eyes.

Looking up, my reflection caught my attention. A strong wave of nausea curled in my stomach as my eyes settled on the girl staring back. Her skin was an alarming pale shade of white, like the life had been sucked dry from her flesh, and her shoulders were slumped forward from a weight much too large for her skinny frame. However, it was her eyes that tied my stomach in tight knots – they were so pale. Her eyes used to be a rich shade of brown, pools of deep chocolate melted from a burning fire, but now resembled ashy orbs of dirt. Instantly, seeing her worn irises, I wanted to scrub away at the pale shade.

I couldn't look at her anymore. Moving my gaze to my hands, I almost let out a horrified scream.

My hands – my pale, clammy hands – were smeared with blood, clutching the sink in a shaky grip. Jumping away, I looked back at the reflection and felt my heart drop as multiple crimson stains began spreading across my shirt. My chest tightened as my heart frantically pounded in my ears. Suddenly, up and down my arms, threaded through my hair, running down my legs – I was bathed in red.

Blood was pooling at my feet. My breaths were short and shallow. My body began screaming at me, every muscle tight, as I looked into the girl's eyes. They were wide with fright, quivering with fear, swimming with vulnerability and calling for help.

My mind was full of static. It felt like I was dreaming. The sounds of bird chattering outside was so much louder than normal. The world hysterically spun–

I took a shaky step back and found myself falling. With a  _bang!_  my head collided with a stall.

_I needed to get rid of the blood – I needed to scrub myself clean._

Eyes opening, I looked down at my body, and frowned when I found myself unwounded. My breath came out in short gasps as I checked myself for any red traces, but came up blank.

What was that?

Silence began uncomfortably stretching. I couldn't take my eyes off my hands – my white hands.

A small sob burst forth before I could stop it. I quickly clamped a hand to my mouth.  _I was better than this, I was stronger, I was–_

My hands were shaking .

Sobs wracked from my body.

I was sick.

A violent spear of nausea struck my stomach. The room was spinning again, I was on a frantic carousel that refused to stop. Heart-hammering, I wrapped my arms across my stomach and launched forward on my knees, forehead meeting the tiled floor.

My chin trembled as tears fell down.

That man's voice replayed in my mind.  _" . . . so called 'blue jay' . . . she's just one person. A girl . . . if she's not dead, she'll be useless . . . nothing but a pretty fake . . . claiming our police's jobs . . ."_

I  _was_  only one girl. The police were a group of trained professionals with more than knives. Yes, they lacked powers, but they made up in numbers, experience and force. Why was I the one plagued with this job, when there were smarter, stronger individuals out there? Why was it me that the pin, that  _Nel_ , chose as Blue Jay?

Why?

I don't remember how long I sat there – on the floor of the girl's bathroom. But I'm sure over an hour. Miraculously, no one barged in – it was just me curled up in a tight ball. The bell signalling the end of the period rang and I forced myself to stumble across to the mirror.

My eyes were puffy and red, as I scrubbed myself clean of the breakdown. I slapped my cheeks a couple times to properly wake up. For a moment, I considered ditching the rest of the day to catch up on some sleep. But I knew that if I decided to leaven then I'd receive more than a little detention. And I'm sure that Nel wouldn't be happy in the slightest knowing I was skipping out on her precious training time.

I could've hit myself. Groaning, I threw my head back and muttered a curse. Training – I had a tonne this afternoon. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten. An aching throbbing struck between my eyes. Slapping a hand to my forehead, I sighed. It felt as if bad luck was forever following me around like a dark cloud. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I made a dash for the door. Hopefully I'd manage to catch up on some sleep during lunch.

* * *

Time flowed like cement for Arnold Shortman that afternoon.

His foot tapped rhythmically as his fingers drummed along the white mug that contained his coffee. Familiar sounds of explosions, gun shots and men yelling at one another came from the living room TV.

George had been in a less than social mood when Arnold had arrived and opted to watch an action movie instead. Arnold had insisted the boy do his homework, as George's parents requested, but whilst he'd been making coffee, George had switched on the TV. And, really, Arnold couldn't find it in himself to switch it off.

So, as the young, blonde child lay on his belly, chin in his palm with eyes intensely glue to the road-rages on screen, Arnold sat at the dining table, sipping his coffee and watching the world outside the window.

Bored out of his mind.

Now, don't get him wrong, Arnold in no way disliked George. In fact, he'd grown quite fond of the kid. However, given that Arnold had no interest in George's movies, no homework to complete and currently nothing to do, all he could do was sit there.

He'd ditched his friends for this to.

For a good cause, of course.

He was getting paid generously. Especially for a simple babysitting job. But that still didn't take away the sting that, no doubt, his friends were having tonnes of fun without him.

Tapping a finger to the murky surface of his drink, Arnold watched with false interest as ripples spread toward the rim in large circles. Glancing up at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time, Arnold heaved a sigh, blowing a strand of hair from his face, as he realised that not even an hour had passed since he'd gotten here. Arnold's eyes shifted from the clock to the window and, as seconds continued to drag on, he took the liberty of counting the bricks of the house across the road. It was excruciatingly painful, but at least it gave him something to do.

– _thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty se– hey, where's she going?_

The door to the house he was watching was thrown open and a familiar girl marched out. Arnold recognised the dirty blonde hair, swinging fists and signature frown upon her masculine face. He could've smacked himself – of course! That was the Pataki house. One of the benefits of this job was that George lived nearby Arnold, so he was only required to walk down a few houses.

Arnold narrowed his eyes when Helga held open the door and a tiny, black body emerged from the gap. It was a cat, he realised with shock. When did Helga get a cat? As far as he knew, she hated cats. And why did it have purple eyes? Could humans even have purple eyes?

Helga slammed the door in a huff. Arnold deducted that, once again, she was in one of her moods, no doubt from another fight with Bob. She turned to the cat and – Arnold blinked – he  _swore_  he could see it nodding it's head, almost in approval. Pulling up her hoodie, Helga and the cat dashed down the street and around the corner out of sight.

Arnold frowned. He didn't know what to make of what he'd just seen.

Not that it was any of his business, but something about Helga seemed different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it seemed like the Helga from last week and the Helga now were two completely different people. For instance, this morning Arnold had not only run into her, but knocked her over in front of a  _crowd of people_. Normally, Helga would raise her fists to him, or spit out something nasty or at least give him a dirty look.

But  _no_ , she hadn't done any of the above.

She'd looked at him with sad, sad eyes and  _apologised._  Her – Helga G. Pataki – apologised to  _him._

Gerald theorised that Helga wasn't really Helga, but an alien in disguise that had disposed of the real Helga Pataki. Normally, Arnold was the first to brush off Gerald's wild, but, given what had transpired, he was embarrassed to admit that perhaps there was some truth in his best friend's words. After all, apparently monsters and girls with superpowers existed – the existence of aliens was hardly far-fetched anymore.

Still, Arnold couldn't shake the look she'd given him.

It was chilling. As long as he'd known Helga, she'd always had an energetic liveness about her, even when upset. In fact, especially when she was upset. Her resentment burnt ferociously in her eyes, along with her pain – he'd never seen it dowsed.

But today her eyes had lacked that intensity. Despite her gaze remaining on him, it felt as if her mind was elsewhere, somewhere much farther. She'd given him such a hollow look, it'd chilled him to the bone.

He almost wanted to follow her. Wherever she was going, Arnold was sure it had something to do with her strange behaviour. Looking into her lifeless eyes, watching her complexion remain so pale, Arnold felt determined to help her.

But he didn't.

Helga and Arnold were not friends – nor were they ever. Not really. Arnold did like Helga and didn't mind the thought of pursuing a friendship with her, but, given what had happened years ago, he doubted she was very interested in staring anything with him. So, as his not-friend, it really wasn't his business what Helga did. Besides, even if they were friends, Helga was a secretive person, it wasn't likely she'd say anyway.

Still, he couldn't shake away the feeling that whatever Helga was dealing with was serious–

A familiar tune suddenly blasted from his pocket. Arnold jumped and almost knocked over his coffee. His back pocket was vibrating. Gritting his teeth, Arnold dug his phone out of his pocket. Seeing his best friend's face on the screen, he rolled his eyes and accepted the call.

"Gerald," Arnold bit out in a scolding manner, "you nearly made me spil–"

"Arnold, you gotta get down here, man!"

"Um," he frowned, anger momentarily subsided. "Why?"

"Cause we're having so much fun – but we're all missin' ya, Arnold!"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Gerald, you know I can't make it, I told you I'm babysitting today."

There was shuffling. Muffled voices seemed to be discussing something Arnold couldn't identify. Rolling his eyes, Arnold patiently waited for his friend's reply. A few seconds later, Gerald spoke, "Just bring 'im here!"

Arnold felt his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. " _What_?"

"Yeah, just bring the kid with you!" Gerald chuckled. Arnold could picture his waving his hand dismissively in the air. "We can all watch him – maybe he could even join in!"

"Gerald–"

"Okay, you're right," he admitted quickly, sighing in defeat. "The kid can't join in, but he can watch! C'mon, Arnold, just bring him here, bat with us for a few hours than take him back home! The kid'll be so bushed, he'll just go straight to sleep – c'mon, it'll be the easiest green you've earnt!"

He wouldn't lie, Arnold was  _slightly_  tempted with Gerald's offer. Not that he disliked George, but Arnold wasn't exactly having the time of his life. And it wasn't like constantly watching TV was healthy for kids – forcing him outside to watch sports could be beneficial to him.

Arnold hated to admit it, but the more time that passed, the more he began siding with Gerald.

_Maybe if . . . no–_

He shook his head free of the temptations. He wasn't paid to play with his friends, he was being paid to take care of George.

Right.

No matter how tempting Gerald's offer was, nor how badly he ached to join his friends in a round of baseball, nor how painfully boring the next few hours were sure to be, running away from his responsibilities was not what Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell were paying him for.

And, with that thought, Arnold opened his mouth to decline Gerald's offer– "Erm, sure, Gerald, we'll be there in, say, fifteen minutes?"

Arnold's eyes almost popped out of his skull. What?  _That_ wasn't what he'd meant to say!

"Awesome, man!" Gerald was grinning. Arnold could hear it in his voice. "See you then, then!"

Arnold opened his mouth, ready to take back what he'd said and explain that he couldn't take advantage of George and his parents, when, before even a word had gotten past, Gerald had already hung up.

Mouth frozen wide open, Arnold blankly looked at the phone in his hand and replayed what had just happened –  _whatever_  had just happened.

Gerald probably knew that Arnold was about to take it back, hence why he was so quick to hang up on him.

Arnold's grip tightened. That Gerald, Arnold frowned, was gonna get it when he–

"Who was that?"

Arnold almost jumped out of his skin.

Spinning around, he let out a breath when his gaze fell on George. The child stood behind him, dressed in a pair of large overalls, awaiting Arnold's answer.

His dark eyes peeked out from his yellow hair, blankly watching Arnold. Shifting uncomfortably, Arnold gulped and avoided George's stare. "U–Um, well," Damn it, he already felt bad enough, he didn't need George looking at him so accusingly–

Wait a minute.

Arnold could've smacked himself.

George was only  _six_ , he couldn't even  _spell_  'accusingly', let along look at him as such.

Shaking his head, Arnold shook away the guilt from his frantic heart. "Do you wanna go to Tina Park, George?"

Tilting his head, George gave him a wary look. Honestly, had it been directed at someone other than him, Arnold would be on the floor laughing, as such a look on someone so young looked ridiculous. "Why?"

Gulping, Arnold fidgeted with the edges of his shirt. Moisture slid down his forehead as he wildly looked around the room. Anywhere but at George's face. "Um, no reason, I just thought that it'd be nice to get some fresh air is all. It's kinda stuffy in here, don't you think?"

George's big eyes were starting to make Arnold feel like he'd just committed a murder. Pulse thriving in his temples, the silence stretched on until Arnold heaved a sigh, shoulders slumping forward. "And," his voice was thick with defeat, "we can grab some ice cream on the way."

George threw up his hands victoriously in the air, letting out a loud, "Yes!" He spun on his heels and ran for his room to grab a jacket.

As his footsteps faded, Arnold released a large breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. Gulping large gasps of air, he felt as if someone had released him from a chokehold. He placed a hand to his heart. Thank goodness for children's short attention spans.

Still, he couldn't shake the guilt from his conscience. It was ridiculous – Arnold knew what he'd planned wasn't awful. But he couldn't rid the feeling that he was deceiving George's parents, who'd specifically asked that he keep their child inside, so he could complete his homework. Hell, he felt that in a way, he was also deceiving George. Guilt pierced his gut when he remembered the carefree smile on the normally solemn child's face.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arnold let loose a low sigh. Oh, well, there wasn't much he could do now. Gerald was expecting him and George was excited for ice cream. They would just have to leave early so George could finish his homework before his parents got back.

Shrugging, Arnold reached for his jacket hanging on his chair and lazily shoved it on. Perhaps it was just his conscience nagging him and nothing bad would happen. Yeah, he thought with a nod, the chances of something unpleasant happening was relatively low, so logically Arnold had nothing to worry about.

Yeah, that was right. Nothing to worry about.

So, why did the churning in his gut say otherwise?

* * *

Arnold hadn't meant to lie again that day.

It wasn't intention, of course. But he didn't want to start making a habit of being dishonest with others. Although, in his defence, it wasn't like he could help it this time.

After all, he'd promised George a scoop of ice cream and Arnold was never one to go back on his word. However, the problem didn't lie in his promise, but rather the flavour George desired.

You see, when they had reached Slausen's Ice Cream Parlour, George's favourite flavour was fresh out. When learning this, the young blonde burst into tears and large, loud wails. Arnold tried bargaining with him, promising him a  _double_  scoop of any other flavour,  _including_ sprinkles, but George remained stubborn in his persistence for his flavour.

So, more than a little humiliated under the many,  _many_ disapproving glances thrown his way, Arnold agreed to search for George's flavour at the Sundae Salon.

Thankfully, the line at Sundae's hadn't been nearly as long as Slausen's and they  _did_  happen to have the flavour. But the damage was already done – Arnold was well over fifteen minutes late as the Sundae Salon was on the other side of town, while Slausen's had been a five-minute walk.

By the end of it all, Arnold had wanted to repeatedly bash his head against a wall. And to think that all of this had been for a single scoop of ginger flavoured ice cream.

To say that Arnold was shocked that such a flavour existed was a large understatement, let alone that six-year-old child not only  _liked_  it, but  _favoured_  it above the others. Maybe Gerald  _was_  onto something about George being a little weird . . .

Speaking of whom had been more than a little annoyed that Arnold was so late.

"You said," Gerald's teeth grinded together as he intensely glared at his best friend, "fifteen minutes!  _Fifteen,_ Arnold! And what is it  _now?_  It's–" he checked his watch "–6:08! An hour later then what you promised! Y'know, when you said you'd only be  _fifteen minutes_!"

Arnold couldn't resist rolling his eyes Gerald had always been the dramatic of the two.

"Sorry, Gerald," he apologised, bending to his knee so George could hop off his back. When George's feet were both planted on the ground, Arnold stood to face his friend with a sheepish smile. "I guess I just lost track of time – y'see, we were trying to find this ice cream–"

"Yeah, yeah," Gerald waved a sniffy hand, rolling his eyes with a raised brow. Whipping out a mitt from thin air, he grabbed Arnold's hand and slapped it into his open palm. "You're fielding on Floyd's team."

Arnold's face fell. "Floyd? C'mon, man, you serious?"

Because, although Arnold considered Jamey Floyd his friend, he wasn't blind to the freckled brunette's faults, one of them being his knack for finding things to trip over. Floyd was a friendly guy, but his tendency to fall over the tiniest of things became his defining characteristic. His reputation for his awkward clueless spread like a wildfire, so much so that, by middle school, he'd earnt the nickname Fumbling Floyd.

Slightly cruel, but ultimately fair.

And it was because of this that Arnold felt like playing on Floyd's team put them at a disadvantage.

Gerald shrugged nonchalantly, hands on his hips. "Sorry, man," he insincerely apologised, "but you were late – we already decided on teams."

Arnold growled. This was Gerald's way of getting even with him, he knew it.

Still, he was glad he got to play at all today when an hour ago he'd been bored out of his mind counting bricks. So, slipping on the mitt, Arnold surrendered with a nod and a truce-worthy grin. "Alright, let's play then."

A slow, but steady smile spread across Gerald's face as he silently accepted Arnold's truce. "Cool, man."

The game was an exuberant experience.

Despite playing on Floyd's team, Arnold immensely enjoyed himself playing with his friends. Surprisingly, they worked better as a team then he'd initially thought, although Floyd did every now and then find something to trip over. But Arnold didn't care, for the drumming in his heart was much louder then his thirst for winning.

The ball flew over his head and, heart thriving, Arnold took off in a sprint in its direction.

It was ironic that, now with his senses on high alert, he'd become unaware that, although he and his friends were enjoying the game, George wasn't. And, when Arnold's back was turned, George left, unaware of the yellow eyes watching his every move.

* * *

Sweat rolled down my neck in thick, salty beads

The thin disk whizzed in my direction. I swiftly ducked, avoiding the sharp blades. Short, ragged breaths flew from my mouth, heart pounding in my ears. I heard its collision in the wall, but my eyes remained frozen on the figure in front of me, it's arm outstretched in my direction.

Wiping the moisture from my sticky forehead, I allowed myself a second to breathe, then bolted in it's direction. The clapping of my heels resonated off the walls as my legs burnt. Sprinting for the glowing figure, I pulled back my arm over my shoulder and launched a fist for it's face. It reacted quickly and held up a forearm to it's face, effectively blocking my attack. I struck again, but it dodged to the side fluidly. It stood behind me and, before I could turn, something smacked into my scalp and knocked me flat onto my face.

Burning sensations assaulted my body. My stomach squirmed uncomfortably as my thigh ached. Mind spinning, I rolled to my side in time to see a foot plummeting to my face–

_SMACK!_

Fire speared my nose as my head snapped back. White fairies danced before my eyes as liquid dripped down my face.

Energy drained, my chest rose up and down with shallow breaths. I didn't want to – but I knew I was reaching my limits. I rose my shaking, bruised hands in the air, making a familiar T shape. There was a sigh from the speakers, but, as requested, the figure winked out of existence.

It soon became quiet, the only sound my stuttered breaths. My heart danced in my ears as I lay on my back, beaten and subdued–

Heat scolded every corner of my body. It was like something was burning at the walls of my lungs–

I was up in half a second, bent over as if I'd been punched, and hacking up burning balls of air. The cough felt wet, like thick phlegmy mucus was sliding up my throat. My tongue was soaked in something metallic. An igniting fire rushed through my body as something wet splattered across my legs. Sweat trickled down my face as I tightly wrapped my hands around my stomach.

I squeezed my eyes shut, begging for the pain to stop.

I didn't know how long it lasted for, but eventually the coughing ended. Opening my eyes, I inhaled deep gulps of cool air. Red droplets were splattered along my knees and tiles. Liquid slid into my open mouth and I hastily wiped away the blood leaking from my nose. I caught sight of my arm and felt like throwing up, numerous purple blotches decorated my pale skin.

Shutting my eyes, I focused on my breathing.

_It's not a big deal, Helga. You're fine – you're Blue Jay. What's a few bruises?_

It hurt to breathe.

Opening my eyes, a pair of concerned, purple eyes stared back. Nel sat a few feet from me, watching me with undeniable distress.

I blankly stared back.

Neither of us said anything – nothing was needed. We already knew exactly what the other was thinking.

A familiar screeching pierced our silence.

We both flinched, but only she covered her ears

The hairs stood straight on the back of my neck. Adrenaline – or something surged through my body as my hands shook uncontrollably. My thoughts were accelerating in my head. I wanted them to stop– no, I needed them to stop, so I could breathe, but they refused. My breath came out in gasps – I felt like I would pass out. The room was spinning and my heart hammering.

I needed to lie down, I couldn't do this.

Screams rung in my ears.

Please not again.

Sweat drenched my skin.

_I can't–_

" _I am Blue Jay, Defender of Earth and Guardian of Hillwood!"_

. . . my fingers curled into a fist. I tuned out the pounding in my chest and listened to the screams. It sounded like one of wild panic. A scream of hysteria, bordering on terror.

I forced myself to my feet.

My legs felt weak. My remaining strength didn't feel strong enough to hold me up. The shakiness made it difficult to hold up my body, yet my head felt the heaviest.

I could feel myself losing balance and grabbed a fistful of hair, giving it a sharp tug. I didn't think it would work, but, after a few fleeting seconds, my body's pain sunk to the back of my mind.

"Helga?"

Clenching my jaw, I released my hair.

Keeping my back to Nel, I pushed back my shoulders and wiped my trembling hand along my torso.

Flipping my hair from my shoulder, I headed for the door with an air of confidence.

"Come on, Nel."

Let's get this over with.

* * *

We were led to a warehouse.

An abandoned warehouse.

Well, almost abandoned. The one being inside? It was the reason we were here. The door was open wide enough that I could slip in unnoticed.

The corrugated iron roof hung at least twenty-five feet above us. There were multiple pops of colours along the crumbling walls, simple designs in spray paint. Sunlight poured in through broken windows, spilling along the dirty ground and dust swirled in the beams of light.

The Mutant was easy to spot.

It stood on the other end, head whipping wildly in all directions as if it were searching for something. I rolled my eyes, but didn't let myself get distracted by it's strange behaviour.

As I sunk to my knee to pull out my knife, I scanned it's form with focused eyes. It was tall and gangly; it's spine was curved with it's shoulders pushed forward. It's arms were spread and, I could see, knife-like nails protruded from it's thin fingers. An untameable mane of hair cascaded down it's back like molten epidote, resembling a green bird's nest.

I wrinkled my nose. Whatever – I wasn't about to let more time pass. I was tired and, at this point, I wanted nothing more then to collapse into my bed.

I swung my knife in it's direction.

I watched in anticipation as the blade flew across the warehouse silently. But as it drew nearer to the Mutant's back, it turned suddenly, swinging out it's arm, and effectively blocked it.

My jaw dropped.

The knife dropped to the Mutant's feet. It's eyes, two golden balls, whipped in my direction as it bared purple teeth. It threw back it's head and let out a loud cackle that shook me to the core.

"Oh!" It cried in a raspy voice. "What an outrageously sublime delight to be alive!"

It's mouth was stretched into a hideous grin that reached it's ears. Before I could blink, it was in front of me in a flash. My legs twitched with the impulse to run, yet they no longer felt a part of me. I couldn't move them, nor any part of my body; my limbs refuse to obey.

Against my will, I was trembling.

My jaw tightened as water began filling my eyes. I silently begged for it not to show. The Mutant's icy breath washed over my face as it giggled. The hairs on my neck were rigid as my heart painfully throbbed.

Reaching out, it trailed it's spidery fingers along my jaw, gently holding my chin to tilt my head upward. I wanted to move – I  _tried_ to move – but my muscles were frozen.

"Such soft skin . . ." It gave another giggle as it's fingers slipped down to my neck. "Master would surely love it . . ."

" _They'd said you'd be difficult."_

They.

Master.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Seeing the fear wash over my face, the Mutant gave another shriek that morphed into a girlish snicker, as if I'd just made a joke.

"Oh," it chortled. "I can't  _wait_  to kill you!"

_Iciness wrapped tightly around my neck. Squeezing with all it's might, I tried breathing, but air refused to flow into my lungs. Panic bubbled in my chest. The walls were closing in. Darkness was overwhelming. My feet dangled as I stared into a pair of red eyes. It's maniacal grin–_

I couldn't help myself – I ran.

Or tried to. I didn't get far.

It was useless. This Mutant clearly exhibited incredible speed, and, that aside, my knees were too weak to get my anywhere, but I couldn't stop myself. My muscles were moving on their own and I found myself heading for the open door–

The Mutant was in front of me, baring it's teeth.

Sharp pain cut across my nose as it's fist slammed into my face. Spots danced across my vision as my head reeled back. Dampness dripped down my nose. Bring my head down, I raised my hands in a defensive stance, ready to strike–

A crushing blow sent me flying.

The echo of my collusion bounced off every corner of the warehouse. Landing in a heap, my back was bashed against the wall.

A tiny whimper escaped my lips.

The world was spinning. I tried climbing to my feet, but found myself back on the ground. Training this afternoon had had the opposite effect on me, my muscles gave distinct cries in unison. Head swimming in pain, I could feel the trembles wracking through my body, rendering me immobile.

It walked towards me, taking slow, deliberate steps.

"Ah, that was such a nice effect!" It cowed, examining the mess of my limbs. "I wonder what else I can do!"

I tried climbing to my hands and knees. Everything was still spinning, but not as much. I was crawling, when it felt as if a thousand needles were jabbing into my scalp. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, the Mutant dragged me to my knees, squealing in delight at my torment. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit down hard on my tongue.

"Aww, you're boring now!" It cried, giving me a good shake. Metallic moisture submerged my tongue. "C'mon, you're the only Guardian I can play with! You managed to give Master a shock yesterday, why can't you do tha–!"

Balling my fingers into a tight fist, I rammed it into the Mutant's foot. Eyes squeezed shut, I heard a sickening  _crunch!_  and my stomach turned.

There was a loud, cracked cry of pain. The stinging in my scalp disappeared and I collapsed to my elbows. I looked up to find the Mutant wrapping it's long fingers around it's leg, staring in bewilderment at it's swelling foot.

Quietly, I let loose a tiny breath.

Then sunk my boot into the Mutant's jaw.

It felt to the ground and I scrambled to my feet. Ignoring the dizziness, I reached out a hand in my knife's direction. Shutting my eyes, I tried pulling it closer to my body into my open palm. Warmth pooled my stomach and a buzzing hummed in my ear when a deafening wail tore through me. My blood ran cold as the scream pierced my brain.

I was knocked off my feet and sent flying.

The impact was unforgiving. My skull bashed against the walls and my muscles cried out. My heart wanted to explode as my eyelids began slipping shut.

Opening my eyes, I spotted a large wall of debris – a sheet of metal – rested against the wall, a few feet from me. I blinked then glanced to the mutant; it's attention was still on it's injured foot. By the way it cried and cradled it's injury, I realised that Blue Jay's strength had escaped me again; my hit had been more damaging then I intended.

Not that it mattered.

The floor moved as I stumbled for the debris.

I crouched to my feet and slipped behind it, squeezing into a tiny ball. The Mutant was shrieking, but I let my eyes slip shut.

I couldn't fight it. Not properly. I could barely run – not without rest.

A familiar wetness slipped between my cracked lips. Sighing, I rested my head against the wall. There was so much blood – too much, I knew without looking.

I pulled the mask from my face and set it next to me. I dabbed my fist to my nose. This ridiculous leotard rendered it practically impossible to bring any proper resources, I realised with a growl. I wanted to punch it – what good was a uniform that did nothing to protect me?

But why was the Mutant here? According to Nel, it's goal should be to collect as much human energy as possible. But as far as I knew, this warehouse was abandoned. I was happy there weren't any civilians, but it still didn't add up in accordance to previous Mutant behaviour.

"You're very pretty, miss."

My heart dropped.

Looking over my shoulder, I realised I wasn't the only one to think this a good hiding spot. Because sat right next to me was a small kid.

I froze, blood running cold. When had he gotten there? How much had he seen?

"Fuck."

I hadn't meant to say it – hell, I hadn't even realised that'd it slipped from my mouth. Not until the boy responded. "Y'know, my mummy says," he frowned, "that you shouldn't say curses."

I felt my eye twitch. "What," I demanded, gritting together my teeth, "are you doing here?"

The warmth in his eyes cooled as he looked to the ground. "It . . . that mean thing chased me here," his voice shook as his bottom lip wobbled.

" _You?_ " My jaw dropped.  _"You're_  who it's after?"

Disheartened, he gave a slow nod.

My heart bled in sympathy.

"Oh!" I gave a shaky laugh. "Well, don't worry," I wasn't sure how to comfort this kid, so I went to hug him but stopped when it occurred to me that I had  _no_  idea how to do that. So, I awkwardly patted him.

The look he gave me practically screamed,  _'What are you doing?'_  as if even he could tell how uncomfortable I was. I rubbed the back of my head and cleared my throat. "I'm Blue Jay. You've heard of me, right?"

His brown eyes blinked. "Um, I think Mum may have mentioned you a few times," he admitted after a pause. "But Dad said I shouldn't repeat the words she said."

It felt as if someone had punched a hole to my heart, but I shakily hid it behind a smile.

"U-Um, well, you probably shouldn't repeat it, then," I agreed with a short nod. "But, erm, basically, I'm here to protect you . . . kinda like a superhero."

His eyes widened. "Wow, really?" His jaw almost fell to the ground. "Like– like Batman?"

This kid, I decided, was a smart one.

A proud smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "Yup," I nodded enthusiastically. "I'm Batman and I'll protect you from those clown-looking things – like the one out there."

The kid smiled for a few seconds before it shifted into a suspicious frown. My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What?"

"You don't look like a Batman," he puffed out his cheeks. "You look more like . . . Wonder Woman!"

My smile faltered – never mind.

"Oh?" I battered my eyelashes, feigning curiosity. "Why's that?"

The kid blinked then pointed a finger between my eyes. "Batman," he pointed out, lifting a brow, "has a mask."

Um, what?

I frowned. "Um, I hate to tell ya, kid–" pushing back my shoulders, I proudly smirked and reached up to adjust my mask "–but  _I_  also have a mas–" my fingers touched bare flesh rather than metal and I froze in horror. "What the– where's my fucking–" Suddenly, the familiar butterfly-shaped mask was held between my eyes, clutched in small, pale fingers. "–mask."

The kid's devious smirk reminded me of Phoebe's whenever she scared me.

Puffing out my cheeks, I gave him a dirty look. "Kid, you shouldn't go around–" Snatching the mask from his fingers, I placed it over my eyes, "–stealing people's things."

My heart was racing with alarm – he'd seen me without my mask.

Granted, he was too young to memorise my face and, even if he had, Blue Jay had much more pleasant features then I did. But it still made me uncomfortable. How hadn't I noticed that my mask wasn't on? How could I be so careless? I'm just lucky it was only a kid that'd seen me rather than a Mutant or older civilian.

"But I didn't steal it," he insisted defensively. " _You_ took it off and forgot about it. Some hero – who forgets their mask?"

My heart thundered.

I couldn't give a proper response to that, so I settled for turning away. Mature, I know. But he was right. What hero forgot her mask? I thought I'd learnt from yesterday about being reckless. Apparently not, if I forgot so easily.

"But I won't tell anyone."

My eyes widened. Looking over my shoulder, the kid had a carefree smile stretching across his lips. "I won't tell anyone," he repeated. "That I saw your face, that is . . . Batman wouldn't like it if someone told people he'd seen his face."

As he smiled, I took the time to study him. His hair was vibrant, golden wisps fell above his energetic eyes. The warmth from his smile spread through me like a wildfire and, hesitantly, my mouth curved into a smile. "T-Thanks, kid."

His eyebrows snapped together. "My names not 'kid'–" I snorted as he made air quotes, "–its–"

A metallic cry rang from above as the debris was suddenly torn from the wall. Standing above us as the Mutant, the debris held above it's head with it's claws, eyes blazed over with fury. "You little bitch!" It growled, voice thick with malice, as it tossed aside the debris.

Something warm flung around my waist. I looked down to find tiny arms belonging to the kid. Clinging tightly to my side, his temples were pushed into my torso and his wide, frightened eyes glued to the Mutant.

The Mutant's gaze switched to the kid and it's eyes dilated in what looked delight. "Oh!" It cried, in an almost feminine voice, as a sharp smile spread across it's face. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

I stared, slack-jawed.  _What_ had it just said?

I looked to the kid at my side, as if to check the legitimacy of what this Mutant had said. But the kid squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face further into my side, tightening his grip around my waist.

A warmth fluttered in my chest. It erupted from somewhere deep inside me. A fiery side wanted to protect this kid – especially this Mutant. I don't know what it was about this kid, but somehow he managed to awaken some instinct deep inside me I hadn't known existed until now.

So, gently, I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He sunk further and kept his face buried in my waist. I was surprised by the warmth that sprung from his touch and hesitantly rubbed his back.

The Mutant, who had been silently watching us, growled as I began comforting him. "You little bitch," it barked, glaring at me, "You stole him from me!"

It let out an anguished howl.

The kid and I both jumped. I tightened my hold on him.

It raised it's claw to strike.

I flung my arms around the kid and launched us both into the air. A white-hot pain erupted from my shoulder and I let out a mangled scream. As we fell face-first through the air, I wrapped myself around the kid as a shield.

We crashed unforgivingly onto the ground. My shoulder felt scolded, but I paid no mind to the searing, focusing on the kid in my arms. He was shaking – I untangled myself from him and sat up to check for any injuries. "Are you okay?" I demanded, scanning his face for any blood or bruises. A gut-wrenching feeling firmly lodged itself in my stomach that made it hard to breathe.

Looking up, he nodded.

I let loose a relieved breath. "Thank goodness."

My heart was still racing and my muscles tight. Why was I feeling like this?

Looking back at the child, that funny feeling returned as I took in his distress. Tears soaked the boy's cheeks, but his eyes refused to leave mine. He wasn't used to this like I was, but he was trying to hold it together. Inwardly, I frowned – he was too young to be looking like that. I didn't like it. I wanted to see that youthful optimism in his eyes, not this glassy anguish.

I surprised us both when I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, kid," I whispered, smiling softly. "I'll protect you – promise."

Shyly, the kid smiled back.

"Get your hands off him," a rasping voice growled. I pulled the boys into my arms and launched to my feet. Fire ripped through my shoulder, but I focused on the furious Mutant. It's eyes were wide and sharp teeth bared. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT BOY!"

And from it's mouth came an ear-splitting scream. Vibrations ran through my body and shook me to my core. The voice cracked into the air like thunder. Scrunching up his face, the kid stuffed his fists into his ears. I tightened my grip around him as the noise reverberated in my ears.

The kid sniffled and buried his face into the crock of my neck.

As fast as it had come, the screaming stopped. The Mutant let out a ferocious growl and bolted in my direction. I swiftly shifted the kid's body onto my back. He immediately locked his arms around my waist. As he flung his arms around my neck, a sharp pain lanced through my shoulder.

Balancing the kid with one hand, I held up the other and shut my eyes. I fixed my concentration on the warmth between my eyes. Heat began radiating from my hands as a familiar whistle warned me of an approaching item. Sweat drenched my skin. I opened my eyes in time to see the Mutant narrowly avoid an approaching item. A familiar blade tore through the air, headed in my direction. Tightening my grip, I dropped to the ground and watched as the blade sailed above our heads.

I heard the collision with the wall. There was a pause as I met the Mutant's hostile glare. It snarled and bounded in our direction. I growled and sharply addressed the kid. "Shut your eyes," I demanded, eyes frozen on the rapidly approaching figure.

He buried his face into my uninjured shoulder. Letting loose a breath, I turned back to the enraged Mutant.

Clenching a fist, it lunged forward. Ducking, I side-stepped out of the way. It's mouth stretched into a hideous grin as it advanced again. I stepped back, evading the attack. It continued to lunge at me – again and again – as I only just managed to avoid it's blows.

My breaths were short – I was tiring out. And, judging from it's grin, the Mutant knew this.

"Is  _that_  all you've got?" It cowed, giggling tauntingly. I growled – it was trying to get a rise out of me. It wanted a real fight, which I was more then happy to give, but I didn't want the kid getting injured. It was bad enough he was on my back, capable of seeing the violence, I couldn't handle knowing that he got injured because of me.

I had to get him out of here.

Reaching behind me, I clasped a fistful of dirt and threw it into the Mutant's right eye.

Another unbearable wail emitted from it's mouth. It's eyes squeezed shut as it rubbed frantically at it's eye. I could feel the kid shaking. Stepping forward, I slammed my fist into it's face. As it collapsed to the ground, I turned on my heel and ran.

Coming to a halt at the open door, I pulled the kid from my back and seized his arms in my hands. The terror in his eyes was unbearable to look at. "Find a place to hide!" I croaked. "You don't come out until I tell you, yeah?"

Shakily, he nodded.

Pushing him from my hold, he scrambled out the door and didn't look back. As soon as he was out of sight, I collapsed to my knees.

I needed to breathe.

I clutched my shoulder, but the pain wouldn't subside. I whimpered, it was worsening – I could feel my strength tiring.

I took a good look at the wound – it was bleeding. Profusely. And I didn't have anything to temporarily bandage it. I smashed a fist to the ground in frustration. I don't know how, but I had to defeat this Mutant quick. I didn't know how long I had before this wound became infected.

That's when my fingers brushed against something.

I looked at my hands – a rebar. It was the length of my arm and appeared sturdy. I grabbed the rebar in both hands. In theory, it may be powerless, but I could work with it. Yes, I could–

An horrendous howl suddenly sounded from over my shoulder.

Looking behind, sharply drawn claws invaded my vision. Manoeuvring to the side, the claws whizzed past my ears and missed me by a hair. The Mutant let out a hiss and bared it's teeth.

My limbs moved before I did. I smashed the rebar into the Mutant's temple.

It cried and I leapt to my feet.

My foot sunk into it's stomach and it fell to the ground. Placing a hand to my waist, I held the rebar in the crock of my neck. "Y'know what I can't figure out?" I asked. Rhetorically, of course. I didn't care for the Mutant's answer. It spluttered and attempted to climb to it's feet. I rolled my eyes and slammed my foot into it's jaw. Choking, it fell back to it's stomach. "Why you chose him – an innocent child – when you could've had many, many other innocent people? You're risking my life right now for a six-year-old. What gives, why him?"

All it did was splutter.

To be honest, I didn't know why I cared so much. For an answer, that is. Easily I could've put it out of it's misery. But something about that kid, seeing the terror in his eyes, had my blood pumping. Something about him brought out maternal instincts. And I wanted to know why, of all people in Hillwood, this Mutant was so set on terrorising him.

"B-Because," the Mutant looked up with malicious eyes. "H-His mine . . . and I w-won't let anyone have him . . . especially not a stupid cunt like you!"

And, with a disgustingly loud gurgle, it spat out yellow salvia onto my boot.

Raising a brow, I looked at the foamy ball sliding down my boots. My stomach lurched, but my features were stiff.

I sighed.

Gripping the bar in my hands, I held it above my head in the air. "Fair enough," I admitted. Then, bringing it down, drove it through the Mutant's abdomen.

My stomach twisted into tight cramps as the steel met soft, pudgy flesh. There was a sickening squish as the rod sunk deeper. Moisture swelled in my eyes and my body shuddered. The Mutant's heart-wrenching screams filled the room. My hands shook as I twisted deeper. Water spilled down my face.

_She's nothing but a pretty fake – a poser, claiming our police's jobs._

Squeezing my eyes shut, I dipped my chin.

_If she's not dead, she'll be useless._

"I won't," I growled, pushing the steel rod further, "allow you to hurt anyone again!"

_I guarantee it._

Throwing back it's head, the Mutant let out a deafening wail.

I felt the vibrations run through the ground. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight and I looked up. The remaining windows, I could see, had hairline cracks spreading along the glass. The screams escalated and, at once, the windows shattered.

I let go of the rod and covered my head as fragments fell for the ground. The noise was immense as the shards rained down. I looked to the Mutant. It's mouth was wide as an overwhelming screech emitted from it. The screaming escalated into an ear-splitting wail. I covered my ears as my head began pounding. I looked up and saw the knife-like shards showering down.

_I'm gonna die._

I bolted.

Screams echoed all around me.

I pushed my shoulder toward the oncoming door and wasted no time leaving the warehouse.

The grass was tough outside. Wild and untamed, it grew to my knees. It waved like a crowd in a stadium as a warm breeze swept by. The sun cast the last of its rays upon the clouds of billowing smoke, turning them to a fiery red.

I skidded to a stop and spun around. Where was the kid? "Shit," I whispered, gasping for air. I tried calming my nerves, reminding myself that I'd warned him to hide, but that didn't stop my mind from screaming. "Shit – kid! Where are you?!"

My hands were shaking so I ran them through my hair. Dams had broken down my face as sobs fell from my mouth. I scanned the area, but I couldn't find any sign of the kid. Where was he? He had to be fine. He was find . . . right? He was a smart kid, I told him to hide. He must've found a good place.

I was trembling.

What if he hadn't gotten out? What if someone took him? What if that Mutant wasn't the only Mutant? What if it was a decoy, sent to distract me, while the real one snuck around to steal the kid? What if–

"Blue Jay!"

I whirled around. His blonde face popped out from a tussock of green blades. My eyes found his.

I sprinted in his direction.

There was still screaming. They pierced my ears and escalated to another powerful level. It was excruciatingly loud. I could hear a deep rumble from the abandoned structure behind me. The kid held out his arms as he jumped to his feet, running for me.

"Stay down!" I hoarsely cried. The twisting in my body tightened agonizingly. Flinging my arms around his tiny body, I tackled him to the ground and covered his body with my own.

The boy's cries were lost beneath the ebullition of noise and shattering wails. The ground shook from the explosion. I held the kid in my arms as his arms and legs entangled around my waist. Shielding his tiny body as thousands of shards of glass and steel rained down.

I watched as the entire warehouse collapsed in piles of rubble and steel. The shrieks – shrill and deafening – abruptly disappeared. From the fresh pile that once was the warehouse rose a grey cloud of smoke.

 _ **Helga!**_ Nel's voice cut through me. My eyes widened, looking up for her. I found her sitting amongst the branches of a nearby tree. I let loose a breath. I've never been so happy to find her cowardly ass in a tree.  _ **Are you alright?!**_

I look at the kid. He was shaking, but unharmed.

I gave Nel a short nod. Even from here, I could see her let loose a relieved breath, ears sagging.

I turned back to the boy in my arms. "Kid," I spoke weakly. He looked up with wide eyes. "You oka–"

"George."

I stared at him. "Huh?"

Eyebrows pushing together, the kid sat up and placed his hands on his hips. "George," he repeated with a determined nod. "My names George."

I paused, as what he said sunk in.

Then chuckled, loudly and gratefully. I wrapped my arms around him and placed my cheek on top of his head. "You're alright, then?"

He giggled and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Yeah," he nodded, snuggling deeper.

Throwing back my head, I let loose a sweet, joyful laugh. I laughed so hard that fat tears rolled down my face. Standing to my feet, with George in my arms, I grinned warmly at him. "Where am I taking you?"

He beamed. "Arnold!"

I blinked.

"Huh?"

* * *

Finding them was easy enough.

I mean, yeah – obviously. George had led us here. But, even had it not been for his instructions, I'm sure at some point I could've located them myself. As Blue Jay, my senses were explicit.  _Much_  more than a regular person. It would've been a cinch tracking them down myself as, about half way there, I could not only hear the loud, panicking voices, but  _feel_  the dread and tension in the air.

They stood in a large clump, arguing with one another. I didn't know how many there were, but I counted at least thirteen.

I recognised each of their faces. They were a part of my grade. They were unruly, chucking their voices at one another and pointing accusatory fingers – it was a hurricane of hostility.

I couldn't see Arnold, but I knew he was there, submerged in a sea of bitter faces. I stood in the alleyway, hidden in the shadows.

George squirmed.

I turned to the kid in my arms. He gave me a confused look, wondering what was taking so long.

"Sorry," I muttered lowly. Shifting him onto my hip, I gave a strained smile. "You ready, bud?"

Beaming, he nodded.

Swallowing my frantic heart, I stepped out of the shadows and made my way to the panicking boys. They were so caught up in pointing fingers at one another that they didn't even see either George or me.

The closer I got to them, the more fire fuelled my belly. A raw wave of emotion rushed through my veins that left my mouth tasting bitter. I didn't know where the rush came from, but I began moving like I'd been through years of military services – I didn't walk, I marched. My back was rigid, my strides long and movements robotic.

The boy's must've heard my heels because soon all eyes were facing our direction. Their arguments trailed off as several jaws dropped low. I spotted Fumbling Floyd turning an abnormal shade of white as he looked remarkably close to fainting.

It was quiet as I moved. No one dared to move a muscle, or meet us halfway. Their eyes remained on me, full of apprehension.

A lump rose in my throat. They were all watching me, stares stuck to me like nails. My heart pounded, and my legs shook. My stomach was quaking – why was I feeling like this? I'd just come from a fight with a Mutant for cripes sake, without the aid of my powers or even my knife. Why were a bunch of  _boys_  freaking me out?

There was a tap to my forehead and I looked to George. Seeing his questioning gaze, I realised that, at some point, I'd stopped walking. Several confused stares impaled my skull, I could feel my face growing hot. George gave me a look, as if asking if I were okay, and, with a small smile, I nodded my head.

I felt a familiar pair of eyes watching me.

I knew it was him, because his eyes were different from everyone else's. Everyone else looked down on me in judgment, or disgust. But he always felt like a liquid adrenaline bumped into my veins. Under his eyes, I could run, jump and dance, just to keep his attention.

But not tonight.

My strides became longer – stronger – as I kept my gaze directed on his. He was uncomfortable, but I didn't look away.

I stopped several feet from them.

No one said anything. They shuffled awkwardly and avoided my eyes, as if drenched with guilt.

I almost snorted. Good.

I could feel Nel tensing up, sensing my vexation from where she sat.  _ **Helga–**_

"Arnold Shortman," I called in a low, powerful voice. It didn't sound like mine, or even Blue Jay's.

There was a tense pause.

The silence was thick and leeched onto my skin, sinking into my brain and tearing mercilessly. I was shaking, but my complexion remained steady.

He stepped forward.

He was in shock, I could see. His skin was pale and eyes drained. I almost felt sorry for him. But thinking of that explosion, how close George had come to being injured, felt as if someone had set a fire inside me.

The boys shot Arnold piteous looks as he moved, some giving him a comforting pat.

My blood boiled hotter.

They acted as if it'd been  _him_  that had fought the Mutant. As if it'd been him that'd been thrown against the wall, or had walked out of an explosion with several injuries.

Arnold's hands clenched by his sides as he took small steps. He looked pained as he met George's stare, but, swallowing, forced a shaky smile. "H-Hey, George," he stammered, giving a small wave.

George remained oblivious to the tension. He smiled at Arnold without a care in the world. "Arnold!" He cried, giving a larger wave then the teenager. He looked ready to run to him, but I tightened my hold. Pausing, he looked up questioningly at me.

I kept my eyes on Arnold. "Are you  _serious_?"

My body shook from the overwhelming heat bubbling.

George may be willing to forgive Arnold, but I wasn't.

Arnold blinked. "I'm sorry?"

He visibly wilted under my glare. "I said," I took a step forward, gritting my teeth together. "Are. You.  _Serious._ "

His confusion only enraged me further. "About wha–"

I barked a laugh humourlessly. "About  _what_ , you ask?" I set George down by my feet and began to tick off points on my fingers. "Let's see – how about the fact that, despite being  _paid_  to babysit George, you up and ditch him for you friends? Or, despite having his parent's trust, you threw that away to act like a child and play with your toys, therefore  _not_  watching him, which is exactly what his parents expected you to do? Or that, despite there being  _two_  attacks in the past two days and me  _busting_ my ass to protect you all, you  _still_  decided to take a child out and let him out of your sight?"

My heart felt like it'd been ripped in two as his face fell. "I–I'm so–"

I held up a hand. "I'm not done," I bit back icily. "He was  _targeted_ , Arnold! By a Mutant that wanted him for itself! I don't know what it wanted with him, but I can guarantee you he wouldn't have lived for very long to see! What's wrong with you? Why wouldn't you watch him while he's under  _your_  fucking care?"

The air was brittle. It felt like it would crack. And, if not the air, then it would be me. If I hadn't already. No one dared to say a word, scared that I would turn my attention from Arnold to them. My tongue felt as if it were fire as I spat destructive bullets. My rage was hotter than magma and just as dangerous.

Half the boys watched Arnold with piteous eyes while others stared at me distastefully.

My stomach twisted. Suddenly, I was nine-years old again, eyed with disdain, viewed with abhorrence, watched with hard eyes. I'm nothing but a bully – Arnold's bully. Everyone loves Arnold, but hates me. I can't escape that – not as a child, teenager, or adult. My limbs felt empty as the hole in my heart grew larger. Nothings changed, absolutely noth–

No. They hadn't seen what I'd seen. They'd never looked into a Mutant's eyes and seen their demise staring back. They'd never felt burning claws tearing down their back, or a paralysing fear that latched on tightly to their wrists and prevented them from moving to safety . . . they'd never faced the reality that living to see tomorrow was extremely thin.

I wanted to shake them, scream at them, that it wasn't just me lashing out – it was the nightmares. I didn't want them looking at me like that. I wanted to open myself up to them, bare my injuries for what they were, and maybe then they'd understand where I was coming from.

No.

No, they were right. I was Blue Jay, I had to remain calm, in control, even if that made me look like a villainous bitch. Arnold had to learn that what he did was extremely stupid and almost cost George his life.

Arnold's cheeks resembled flaming tomatoes as his eyes remained unblinkingly on his shoes. His hands gripped the sides of his shirt. Fire in the form of water threatened to spill down my face. Tightening my jaw, I crunched my teeth over my lip. I wasn't Helga, I was Blue Jay . . . I was their protector.

Breathing in through my nose, I released a calming breath. "Do you know what George's seen today?" I asked in a smaller voice. "Do you . . . know of the horror he suffered because you were too lazy to just do your job for one fucking day? . . . I suspect you wouldn't as I get the distinct feeling that you've never been in a situation like that . . . it sucks. It really, really sucks. It stays with you . . . and never leaves. I doubt George will be forgetting what he saw today either. Likely, from what he's seen and felt today, it'll remain with him for a while," I lowered my gaze to my shoes. My hair fell over my shoulders, making a bloody golden curtain. "He'll wake up at odd hours from nightmares that he swears are real, walking down the street won't be as innocent anymore – constantly, he'll feel eyes on him, watching him . . . people'll look at him weirdly, convinced there's something wrong with him, not understanding the trauma he's going through, the trauma that'll be with him . . . for a long time."

There was a stinging in my eyes. I blinked away the liquid. I wouldn't cry. Crying lead to looking weak, and looking weak lead to more crying. I wouldn't cry, I wouldn't cry, I couldn't cry.

"Bullshit."

I looked up.

Gerald's eyes were narrowed. He stood next to Arnold, who looked downright horrified. His eyes burned with an intensity that tightened my chest.

My tongue felt like sandpaper. "W-What?"

"I said – bullshit," he repeated, crossing his arms challengingly. "What you just said is completely bull."

My laugh was empty. "How would you know,  _kid_?"

Gerald's fists clenched, but he kept them by his side. "I don't – but neither do you," he hissed. "You know about as well as the rest of us if George will be okay after today . . . what you're describing, it isn't something that he'll suffer, but  _you._  You're just using George as a way to blame your problems on Arnold . . ."

There was a sharp intake of gasps as the boys murmured their agreements.

I watched without moving my head, keeping the hammering to myself. What Gerald was saying . . . made sense. I wasn't talking about George anymore, but me.  _I_  was the one suffering from these attacks, not George. I was unfairly taking my frustrations out on Arnold . . . as usual.

I felt like I were being strangled. I clamped down on my tongue and cleared my throat. I knew how to keep a poker face, growing up in the Pataki household finally had it's benefits. Angling my head to a casual pose, I resisted the urge to step backwards, meeting Gerald's stare.

He continued, albeit quieter. "Look, I won't lie, what Arnold did wasn't smart, but it's not like it was just him. We  _all_  encouraged him – hell,  _I_  was the one who called him!" Gerald then gave me a look that shook me to my core. The guilt swimming in his eyes showed me more than his words did. Stiffening, Gerald lowered his face to the ground and, clearing his throat, spoke in a defeated voice. "If you're going to blame anyone . . . if you're going to yell at anyone for a situation that you were in today . . . it should be me."

Arnold's eyes were wide as he stared at his best friend. My own jaw had dropped during Gerald's bold declaration.

I'd never been particularly close to Gerald Johanssen. I'd met him a little after Arnold, but regardless I'd known of his existence for years now. It was no secret that neither Gerald or I held any affection for each other. I'm sure to him, I was nothing more than a snarky bitch who bullied his best friend as children, and, honestly, Gerald always seemed like an asshole to me. The only thing we had in common was our fondness for Arnold and mutual dislike for each other.

But hearing him now, how willing he was to take the blame . . . almost made me respect him. Hell, in a weird way, I sort of admired him.

But I still couldn't forgive him.

Or Arnold.

Too many things had happened because of their carelessness.

"Look!"

I lowered my gaze to George. He was looking in the other direction and pointing a finger with wide eyes.

Frowning, I spun around.

. . . and drew in a sharp breath.

_How–_

Multiple gasps came from behind me.

It was a bleeding mess. It stood in the alleyway, slumped against the wall and pressing it's hands to the sides to prevent it from falling. The Mutant's right eye was swollen shut and red salvia slipped down it's chin. Thick scarlet poured down it's tensed limbs from the gaping hole in it's abdomen, where the rebar stuck out from.

It's good eye was turned in my direction and glared. It let out a low growl. "Y-You," it's lips pulled back to reveal stained teeth, red salvia gushing between the gaps. Sweeping back my arm, I pushed George behind me. Instantly, Arnold was by my side and lifted George up into his arms. "BIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!"

Mouth opening wide, it launched forward and let out an unforgiving wail. It reverberated in my ears like thunder and I shook from it's rage. The boys jumped, letting out terrified screams as they covered their ears. The Mutant burst with life as it screamed, it's mouth fell lower and it's hair flared out around it. From the corner of my eye, I could see thin, spidery cracks spreading along the surface of windows at the park's edges.

It seemed that with it's anger came more power. I gritted my teeth, I needed to kill it before it injured anyone. But I also needed answers–

It stopped.

The shrieking – it just ended.

Letting out a pained moan, the Mutant slumped against the wall, clutching tightly onto the rebar.

Silently, I heaved a sigh, shoulders heaving. That rebar . . . the Mutant wasn't immune to it's injuries. It was severely weak – it wouldn't be hard to take down. However, I was also injured, not as badly, but enough to slow me down.

This fight would have to be quick.

There was a tug on my arm.

Looking over my shoulder, I found Arnold staring up at me. His emerald eyes glistened, but burned with determination as he cradled George tightly in his arms. My chest fluttered. "Do you," his voice shook. Shaking his head, he spoke again in a clearer voice. "Do you have this?"

_Do I have this._

I wanted to laugh. It's not like it mattered if I didn't. Of all people here, I was the only one with any experience in dealing with Mutants. I may be injured, but I still had more raw power then all them put together.

Pressing my lips together, I faced the Mutant. The blood, still flowing down it's limbs, formed a pool at it's feet. It shook as it continued to push itself up against the wall. My fingers found my hilt as I bent down into my boot. I wanted it's death to be quick and painless, but, I realised with dread, I was a Guardian . . . I needed answers.

So, reluctantly, I pushed the knife further into my boot and stood to my full height. Keeping my eyes locked ahead, I stretched out my arm in the boys' direction. "I need a bat," I announced, spreading my fingers. There was a shuffle and quiet murmuring, but no bat was placed in my hand. I turned to stare questioningly at them. What was wrong with them? "Did I stutter – give me a  _bat_."

Again, they shuffled, casting one another nervous glances, but no bats were offered to me. Instead, they clutched the wooden instruments tighter to their chests, or hid behind their buddies.

Finally, one boy, a brunette of medium height, stepped forward, eyes downcast. "Um," he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "What're you gonna do with 'em?"

My jaw dropped. Were they serious?

"Save your lives, dumbos!" I dropped my arm to the side as I turned partially to face them, keeping the Mutant in my peripheral vision. "Look, if you're so worried that I'll break your fucking bat, then just keep reminding yourselves that it's either  _that_  or death at the hands of – well,  _that_!"

I made a wild gesture to the snarling Mutant, but the boys remained frozen.

I smacked my head, turning to the side. Of  _all_  the hardships that came with being Blue Jay,  _this_  was reaching the top of the list. Especially since, as a masked superheroine, I wasn't allowed to pummel them, which was a luxury I could only afford as Helga.

A cool wisp of air took a hold of my hair, lifting the strands into my face. I spat the golden tendrils from my mouth and wrestled to keep the hair from my face.

Several gasps broke from the boys.

I frowned, dragging my face from my hands. What were–

My shoulder throbbed under the wind's breath.

Shutting my eyes, I heaved a tired sigh.

I swept my hair back over my shoulder, covering the wound, but the damage was already done. They'd seen my shoulder, they knew I was hurt.

They'd seen my weaknes–

Spinning around, I snatched the closest bat in my reach from a snivelling boy. He practically jumped away before our fingers could meet. I swung the bat onto the crock of my neck and spun around to march for the Mutant–

"This is ridiculous!" I heard George exclaim. Halting, I rolled my eyes, but didn't turn. "You've got powers – fucking use  _them_  instead of our bats!"

My blood froze.

I could hear murmurs of agreement. An involuntary shiver ran down my spine as I felt accusatory stares bore into my back. My eyes turned to Arnold, who watched his friend with narrowed eyes as realisation hit him. Dots connected in his mind and he turned to me expectedly. Blood rushed to my face and I bowed my head to hide behind my hair. I could feel Arnold's confused stare and, as my body shook, my teeth clattered.

Breathing in through my nose, I clenched my jaw tightly. Fire spread through my limbs and I looked up. Tightening my hold on the bat, I made my way to the Mutant.

Marching forward, I tilted my head casually, keeping my mouth clamped forward. The Mutant must've heard my steps because it straightened it's posture and snarled, clutching onto the rod in it's belly.

Keeping my poker face, I walked like I was headed to school. There wasn't an ounce of care in the world. I swung the bat around the air, twisting it elaborately with an elegance I knew was Blue Jay's. I felt the boys' impressed stares as they watched. I couldn't stop myself from smirking – if they thought  _that_  was impressive, wait until they caught this spectacle.

The Mutant snarled and, turning to the side, spat out a ball of red salvia. Spinning to face me, it's nostrils flared and, before I could blink, it leapt into the air.

Twisting it's body impressively in the air, it landed firmly on the balls of it's feet by my side. Swinging the bat, I turned but it leapt again. It landed on my right, but before I could even look, it was back in the air and behind me. It kept this up as it continued to evade my attacks, which was losing more and more force.

Finally, I had enough.

It landed a few inches behind me, but I didn't attempt turning. I jabbed my elbow back and clocked it in the nose. Whirling around, I swung the bat and nailed it in the temple, knocking it flat onto it's back. I swung back my leg when it lashed out it's claws. Slashing upwards, I snapped my head back and avoided it's nails by a hair. My feet were swept out from under me and I was on my back, bat flying from my grasp.

It bent over my body. Snarling it raised it's claws. I thrusted out my leg and sent it flying. It cried as it landed on it's back and clutched it's stomach. I scrambled to my feet, battling the dizziness, as it crawled into a defensive pose on the balls of it's feet.

It's hair spilled over it's hunched shoulders as an ominous golden glare peeked through the strands. Sweat dripped down it's face and blood pooled the hand wrapped around it's wound, slipping through it's fingers. It spat out another fiery ball and sneered, lowering it's head but keeping out eyes locked.

And charged forward.

Raising it's hand, it swiped. I dodged to the side. Growling, it swivelled in my direction and swiped again. I managed to dodge it's strike again and it growled. Jabbing out it's hand, it wrapped long fingers around my neck and squeezed. I spluttered out parched gasps. It giggled, then opened it's mouth to let out another unbearable wail. It blared in my ears as we were only a few inches apart. I was blinded by flashing colours as my entire skull radiated with tormentous throbbing. The nausea was so overwhelming, I wanted to vomit.

I tried desperately to formulate a plan, but it's deafening voice made it hard to do so. All I knew was that I had to fucking shut this Mutant up.

Grabbing fistfuls of it's hair, I tugged hard and brought the Mutant down towards me. It's voice momentarily wavered. I threw myself forward and smashed my forehead against the Mutant's nose.

Pulling back, I saw blood dripped from it's nose. Dazed, it touched a hand to it's nose and examined the red fluid. Growling, it glared up at me then threw me in a random direction. I was thrown against a pole, heart in my throat. Launching over my knees, I hacked furiously and drew in deep, satisfying breaths.

A fist suddenly came for me. I fluidly dodged to the side and swung out my foot, burying it in it's cheek. The Mutant staggered against the pole and I ducked to snatch the bat. Spinning around, the Mutant was rubbing it's jaw, so I struck the bar across it's throat like a bar.

"You say you have a master–" I was an inch from it's face. My breath whipped the wisps of it's hair. "The previous Mutant mentioned a 'they' –  _who_?"

The Mutant narrowed it's eyes. But then there was a twinkle as it burst into a fit of giggles. I'd imagine that, if it could, it would be clapping in absolute glee. "Oh, what a treat!" It slammed it's head against the pole, giggles dissolving into full-blown laughter. I cautiously looked over my shoulder, worried the boys would hear our conversation. "Oh, master would surely–"

"Your master," I pushed further against it's throat. It's laughter was cut off as it began choking. "You keep going on about a master, specifically a  _he_  – it's not Acantha, so  _who._  Is. It."

The Mutant smirked and my blood boiled.

I wrapped a hand around the rebar. For a millisecond, the Mutant's eyes widened with panic, before falling into a mask of indifference. I rose a brow, it wouldn't remain calm for much longer.

I jerked the rebar to the side.

It's anguished cry pierced the air.

Thick blood ran from the wound and soaked my flesh, but my eyes remained on it's face. I wasn't budging until I got an answer.

Twisting the bar in my wet hands, I slowly pulled it from it's skin. Then thrusted it back into it's stomach. Wailing, the Mutant struggled against the bindings, but my strength didn't falter.

Leaning in closer, I lowered my mouth to it's ear. "Who." I whispered through gritted teeth "Is. It."

It's eyes flickered to mine, looking very, very tired. Letting loose a breath, it rested it's head against the pole. "Fine," it breathed in defeat.

I let loose a breath, reaching up to wipe away the sweat from my brow.  _Thank goodness._  "Alright–" I cleared my throat. "–who is it, then?"

Letting loose another breath, the Mutant looked up into my eyes. "My Master–"

A tiny whistling caught my attention.

Releasing the bat, I dropped to my knees. The whistling grew louder as something tiny zipped over my head. Panic rose and I rolled to the side. I held my breath as an invisible force pushed the Mutant against the pole.

It's face scrunched up as it reached a shaking hand to it's throat. It began hacking while trying to inhale sharp gasps of air. It struggled to breathe, I watched as it doubled over, sucking in as much air as it could. Another force propelled it back. It's throat gurgled as it spat out blood. It's body shook as crimson trickled down it's limbs. It clawed as it's throat – pulling, tearing at the skin as it began turning blue.

That's when I spotted it.

Frost.

Springing from the base of it's throat was a tiny spot of frost.

I blinked.  _What the–_

The small pattern of ice began to spread. It crawled between the Mutant's fingers and down it's shoulders. It glowed an unnatural blue, thickening and cackling. The Mutant tried fighting it off – slamming it's skull against the pole, scratching at the blue layer clinging to it's skin – but the more it fought, the faster it grew. The frost spread to the tips of it's toes and up the length of the pole. The ground was encased in an icy sheet as shards broke out from the Mutant's body.

The cement tinged blue as the ice stretched further and further from the Mutant. It cloaked the fallen bat entirely. Shards broke out from the ice as it crept towards my frozen form.

_**Nel–** _

_**Helga!**_ Nel screamed.  _ **Get out of there – now!**_

She didn't need to tell me twice.

Scrambling to my feet, I darted off in the direction of the boys. They watched with wide, frightened eyes. I sought out Arnold's; like the boys, he watched in horror with George wrapped up tightly in his arms. The kid's arms were wounded around his neck as Arnold gently pressed his face into his shoulder, shielding him from the terror.

Our eyes made contact and my heart flourished. I knew it was selfish, but I wished it was me in George's place – wrapped up in Arnold's protective arms. I didn't want to be the one fighting, I wanted to be the one being fought for. I wanted to be the one protected. I wanted to be in his embrace, where I know I'd be safe, secured by his love and affection.

My heart was racing. I was no longer running for the boys, but Arnold. The wind whipped at my face as salty liquid stung my eyes.

 _ **Helga!**_ Nel suddenly burst.  _ **Get down! Tell those boys to hide themselves!**_

I skidded to a halt and pointed at them. "Oi, boys!" Their eyes were back on me. "Get down now! Find something –  _anything_  – and hide yourselves behind it!"

I didn't know why Nel insisted on us hiding, but I was particularly curious to ask her.

The boys obeyed. Before I had even finished instructing them, they all took off in various directions. Some hid behind trees, some ducked behind bushes and some dove behind the fountain basin. Arnold went with the latter, laying on his belly with George still wrapped up in his arms.

My heart lurched. I wanted to throw my form over his. I wanted to protect his body with my own and–

The hairs on my neck were rigid.

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes widened as shards of ice flew directly for me. I threw myself to the ground, wrapping my arms tightly around my head. The noise was sharp as the shards pushed through the air. They sailed clean over my body as they continued to propel forward.

Screams were all around.

There were multiple crashes as the ice collided with different surfaces. My stomach twisted into tight cramps. Had anyone been hit? Had they been standing in the range of fire? My head swam with apprehension. I looked up, scanning the area, and counted each of the heads that poked up from their hiding spots.

_Fifteen – sixteen – seventeen! They're alright, they're all safe!_

A small smile crept on my face.  _Criminy . . ._

Shutting my eyes, I lay my forehead on the ground, drawing in deep breaths. My heart felt like it would explode but the tension slowly drained. My shoulders slumped forward, when something dribbled down my jaw.

I reached a hand to my face and realised it was wet. My eyes were burning as a salty fluid dripped over my cracked mouth. Straightening up, I scrubbed the water from my face, casting a wary look in the boy's direction. They were to occupied asking one another if they were alright to care about my wellbeing.

Looking back to where the Mutant had stood a few seconds ago, I suppressed a horrified pang in my stomach. It looked as if winter had just exploded (which, I guess, in way, it had); a layer of frost covered the pole and it's surroundings. It beautifully glistened pale under the streetlights, so beautiful that you would never have been able to tell that there had been a violent occurrence . . . I couldn't even spot a drop of blood.

Curiosity curled in my stomach and I found myself crossing the street to the winter wonderland.

 _ **Nel**_ , my telepathic voice sounded as curious as I felt,  _ **what was that? I had that Mutant in my hands . . . what happened?**_

 _ **I don't know, Helga**_ , Nel responded in a voice similar to mine. Reaching the pole, I bent down to examine it. I didn't know what I was looking for, but something was nudging me forward.  _ **I didn't see it – it was too quick for me.**_

There were magnificent patterns swirling along the frosty surface, but they weren't what I was looking for.

I sighed.

Then something tiny caught my eye. I squinted and leaned forward. I blinked a few times, just to make sure if what I saw was real.

Nel seemed to notice my discovery.  _ **Helga, what is it?**_

Reaching forward, I plucked the item from it's frosting layer. Holding it delicately between my index finger and thumb, I held it closely to my eyes.

It was a spike.

A tiny, tiny spike – the size of my thumbnail. It was a slither of ice, but glowed – blue.

My eyebrows pushed together. Was this the whistling I'd heard? Had someone shot this at the Mutant, or intended it for me?

_**Helga?** _

Because if this had been what killed that Mutant and caused such erratic uproar, had shards coming out of thin air and attacking people and was intended for me, then that meant that whoever had shot this was still out there.

"Look!"

I looked back at the boys. My stomach churned seeing their identical terrified looks they stared straight up. I followed their line of sight, turning to a tall building across the street.

My heart stopped.

He stood atop of the building, cloaked in shadows. His body was submerged in blackness, but the pale light streamed from behind, displaying a perfect silhouette.

He stood tall, feet firmly planted apart. His shoulders were broad, his limbs strong as his fists clenched by his sides. His teeth glinted in the light as he grinned crookedly, and though I couldn't see his eyes, I knew that, for certain, they were watching me.

A shiver ran down my spine. Subconsciously, I moved my hand to clutch my shoulder. The grin on his face grew, stretching further across his face.

I dipped my chin and gritted my teeth. Damnit – I'd revealed a deficiency.

I squared my shoulders and threw back my fists. Something cackled behind me, but I kept my unwavering eyes on his.

_Whoosh!_

There was a sound similar to smashing glass as an icy gust of wind tore behind me.

I spun around–

_What?_

–and frowned.

No one was there. I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but certainly not nothing. Instead, I was staring at the same frosty wonderland – the thick icy layer coating the pole in it's gorgeous patterns, stretching to the ground–

Wait a minute.

My eyes widened as I realised something. Or, rather, the  _lack_  of something.

Where was the bat?

The bat that had aided me in defeating that Mutant, that had been encased in an icy cage, was no longer there. Instead, broken icy teeth rose from the ground, where, like a shadow, the bat's imprint lay perfectly clear.

"Hey!" A boy with curly red hair and circular glasses cried, pointing in the man's direction. "He had my bat!"

I turned back to the man's direction – senses on fire – and gasped. Clutched in the man's hand was a wooden object suspiciously similar to the bat. His grin was manically stretched before he dissolved into a fit of loud cackles.

His laughter rang in my ears. An iciness curled tight in my stomach. Something was bubbling in my chest uncomfortably.

Suddenly, his eyes were back on me. His piercing, glowing eyes, shinning with a demented glee. They were trained on my figure, looking down on me, reminding me of his superiority.

Because, although neither of us had fought or even spoken, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see who the inferior was.

The iciness nibbled away.

Biting my lip, I looked down. My terrorised feet were paralysed; I tried reaching for my knife, but my hands wouldn't obey my commandments.

I wanted to move, but I couldn't.

I needed to move, but I wouldn't.

I couldn't.

I didn't want to–

"He's leaving with my bat!"

I looked up in time to catch him turning around and disappearing into the shadows – taking the bat with him. I had follow him – it was my duty to follow him. He was the bad guy, after all, and I the good guy. That's how it always played out, right? Good vs. evil, the hero would always win.

Yet, I still couldn't do it.

Because while I may be Blue Jay, a hero whom had sworn to protect Hillwood, I was still Helga. I was born Helga G. Pataki, not Blue Jay, and Helga wanted nothing more than to go home.

My limbs were shaking far too much. I couldn't control them – I couldn't move.

"Hey, you!"

I looked back to the clump of boys. They stared at me expectedly, waiting for something to happen. But I was drawn to the one that had called me out. The boy who's bat I'd stolen. The boy who's bat I had lost. He seemed perfectly aware of all this as he appeared less than amused. "Aren't you gonna go after him?"

My heart hammered.

Go after him? I couldn't go after him, I was only sixteen! They all looked at me as if I were an expert, when I knew only as much as they. I couldn't go after him – I was just Helga.

But . . . they weren't looking at me like I was Helga.

No – Arnold wasn't.

My eyes found his, even amongst the staring faces. I released a short breath, taken by how he looked at me. Clutching George, he watched me with a look of admiration. He'd seen me screw up, seen me blow up at him, but also knew of my successes. He'd seen my strength, he knew I could handle this. He had faith in my abilities.

He didn't look at me as Helga.

He looked at me as Blue Jay.

I didn't want to go, but it was my duty to put their needs ahead of my own.

So, with the knife in my clammy hands, I sent them a quick nod, letting them know they had nothing to worry about.

Then ran.

Swiping the hair from my eyes, I charged blindly into the shadows. I wasn't sure where I was headed. I'd just hoped I was headed in the right direction.

The cold night air flooded my lungs as my breaths became deeper and faster. My heart threatened to explode. It felt as if someone had set fire to the soles of my feet as yet again my heels proved to be more defective then beneficial. There was static in my ear. What was it? What was–

_**Helga, slow down!** _

I skidded to a stop.

My feet slipped and I almost face-planted. But my mind was racing so fast, I barely noticed.  _ **Nel?**_

My heart was bounding. My face flushed. My breaths short, spluttery bursts. My fingers curled into small, clammy balls. Where was she?

_**Where are you, Helga?** _

I paused and frantically spun around. The wind was howling and my hair violently whipped in my face. Pushing back the golden tendrils, I scanned the area with apprehension. It was a shitty area; the alleyway had led me to an abandoned site behind an indistinguishable building.

Scrunched up newspapers tumbled across the gravel as if stuck in a washing machine. Stained boxes were carelessly stack and messy graffiti scrolls were plastered over the large bins.

_**Um, I'm behind this building, I think – it's abandoned.** _

A putrid smell loitered above me and I covered my nose. My stomach curled at the repulsive stench and I blinked away the triggered moisture.

_**Did you see where he went?** _

There was laughter behind. Clutching my knife, I swung around but found myself alone. Panic trembled in my muscles. I gulped.  _ **Um, I think, uh, west? I think – I don't know. He's gone – he may have gone into one of these abandoned buildings thou–**_

A crushing blow struck the back of my skull.

_**Helga!** _

The force sent me forward onto my stomach, sprawled out painfully across the gravel.

Cheek pressed to the gravel, my vision blurred in and out of focus. Everything spun as shapes began merging. I tried blinking, but duplicates multiplied.

_Clang._

I opened my eyes.

Blinking, I strained to make the two wooden bats beside me into one. That bat must've been the knock to my head. But if that bat had been used, then where was–

Laughter.

I froze.

And didn't move, blink or even breathe.

I was deathly still.

My limbs wouldn't tremble anymore–

My skin crawled as my senses burned.

–I shot up and rolled to the side, avoiding the white flash that flew past my cheek. Looking back, my jaw dropped. Where my head had been, a silver pillar now stood, sticking out from the gravel.

"So,  _this_  is the infamous Blue Jay," A tender voice spoke from behind – I wasn't alone. Looking in the direction the voice had come from, a man stood completely concealed in the shadows. "I'm honoured."

His voice was mordacious. Irritation burned in my chest. My heart was still pounding, but his patronising words were all I could focus on. "Would the honoured fool," I bit out, gritting my teeth unpleasantly, "do  _me_  the honour of revealing to me his face, perhaps?"

He chuckled lightly –a deep rumble that had a cold edge to it. "If the lady insists."

His silhouetted footsteps were graceful as he stepped from the shadows, revealing his features.

My jaw dropped.

He was handsome – inhumanely so.

His beauty was strikingly sharp; his bone structure fine and perfectly symmetrical. His tangled mess of curls reminded me of a silver fox. His eyes were dark as they peered at me, contrasting with his white skin. He watched me with amusement, the right side of his mouth turned up, I looked at him with hostility.

The silence stretched on as our eyes remained glued to one another in a battle for dominance. However, something uncomfortable churned in my stomach and I was tempted to look away. But looking away was like admitting defeat and, as Blue Jay, I couldn't afford that.

Rising to my feet, I pushed back my shoulders and rose my chin. Keeping my features neutral, I spoke in a guarded tone. "So, you're  _master_ , then?"

He smirked. "Only if you want me to be, milady."

I felt heat grow in my cheeks at the implication of his words. I turned to the side to avert my gaze, but I'm sure that, even from where he stood, he could see the additional glow.

He chuckled, proving me right.

I gritted my teeth. Damn it, that was something Helga would do. I was Blue Jay, I had to channel her strength.

I had to get answers.

Clearing my throat, I turned back to him and placed my hands on my hips. "Who are you?" I demanded, voice strong. "And what do you want?"

"Well, milady, you can just call me Serec," he answered, offhandedly rolling his shoulders. "And what do I want? Let's see–" He tapped a finger to his chin and pretended to ponder. "Hmm, well, it appears that two of our experiments have been terminated over the past forty-eight hours . . . you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

His grin was deranged. It wasn't one of happiness or amusement, but one that laid his motives bare – his desire for my blood on his hands.

I clenched my jaw. "They attacked my people. They had what was coming for them."

Chuckling, he held up his palms in a surrendering stance. "Of course, milady," he nodded. My nose wrinkled, I was beginning to hate that name. "But, surely, you just understand that if one woman were to suddenly appear and singlehandedly challenge our authority, we'd have to analyse the situation at once, right?"

Of course I'd realised this. I knew that, at some point, Acantha, or whoever else with her, would begin noticing their Mutants being defeated. They'd eventually have to look into it.

But it didn't make it any less comforting, knowing that I was staring straight into the face of the man allied with the woman determined on killing our planet. The man who, for all I knew, could walk away with my life tonight.

"Get to the point," I demanded, placing a hand to my waist.

"Such an impatient beauty you are, m'dear," he commented in a rumbling tone, lowering his face so his hair concealed his eyes. "But, yes, I suppose that the point is that, as of the last forty-eight hours, we have been watching you and, as such, I'll admit that I've grown somewhat an obsession with you." Hunched forward, he rose his chin slightly and stared at me from between his hair strands. I drew in a sharp breath – the horrifying malice in his eyes, yet his sharp smile felt like both could tear me down easily. "More specifically – your powers." My stomach dropped. "Please, miss Blue Jay, would you perform a magnificent display for a gentleman such as myself?"

He held out a gloved hand as if asking for a dance.

But we were doing no such thing.

He wanted to see my  _powers._

Blood drained from my skin.

My muscles were frozen, but there was a tingling sensation that made me want to run. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and this man –  _Serec_  – as possible.

I didn't have my powers. Not since my first night as Blue Jay. And, at the most, I'd only been properly training for a few hours. I was not nearly strong enough to even go against a Mutant, let alone a man who seemed to have abilities over ice. Even if I were to have my powers, he obviously had seen more battles, participated in many conflicts and was advance in his abilities.

In every way, he was superior to me – my fingers curled around my hilt – there was no way I could walk away from this fight.

I launched the knife sailing over my shoulder.

Serec scoffed and rolled his eyes. He twisted his torso to the side and let the knife fly past his shoulder.

My jaw dropped – he acted as if he were only swatting a fly! He'd barely moved.

Placing a hand to his hip, he turned back to face me with a raised eyebrow. "If you don't mind, Miss Blue Jay," insultingly, he battered his eyelashes and grinned. "I think I'd like to be the lead in this dance."

Sweeping his arms to the side and leaning forward, he bowed gracefully at the waist. I watched as he lifted his chin and, with a smirk, whispered, "Milady."

My hands squeezed into fists.

He launched forward in my direction.

Spreading my feet shoulder-width apart, I held up my fists in a defensive pose and clenched my jaw shut tight.  _You can handle this, you can handle this, you can handle this–_

He swung forward a gloved hand. I moved quickly and it grazed my chin. But, I could tell, had he landed his target, it would have been one heck of a shot. He grinned and went in for another shot, but I side-stepped and twisted away my torso.

Gritting my teeth, I threw a fist at him. He stepped backwards, tilting back his head and avoiding my attack. Grinning, he reached forward and wrapped a hand around my smaller one and squeezed. An aching bite burst from my knuckles as I tried concealing my cries behind clamped lips. He chuckled and squeezed tighter, increasing his strength until–

_Crunch._

This time I did cry.

Fire spread underneath my skin. I let out a strangled scream as a crippling throbbing lanced over my fist. It felt as if my knuckles had tripled their size. Burning spread from the tips of my fingers all the way to my arm. I tried focusing on my breathing, but Serec sent fresh ripples of pain by squeezing tighter.

Then, with a shrug, he carelessly threw me to the side. As I fell, I shot out my leg in a vicious swipe, hitting Serec in the nose. Crimson burst from his nose. Before he could reach up, I staggered backwards and, tripping on a particularly large rock, landed on my back.

The air was cool, but my hair stuck to my cheeks like second skin. I wanted to get up, but my limbs were empty. Pain still thrived in my knuckles so I clutched them to my chest. It was agonising as they continued to burn. They were broken – I could tell. A bruise was already beginning to form.

Shit.

My right hand was my dominant – my left hits were significantly weaker. How long would it take for it to heal? The healing process had already begun, but I didn't know how long it would be until I could use my hand again.

"You're . . ." I looked up at the white-haired man. His eyes weren't on me, but his stained glove as he examined the new colour. Blood was dripping down his face, but he didn't seem to notice. Sniffling, he wiped his nose and looked up at me with gleeful eyes. ". . . not acting on our agreement!"

He charged at me again. I'd barely scrambled to my feet when he began throwing punches. Biting my tongue, I dodged each and every one of them – barely. "Why–won't–you–" He grunted, throwing another punch for each word, "–show–me–milady?"

My body was beginning to tire. I was almost out of air and I could feel strength fading.

His punches abruptly ceased and he took a step back.

I scowled – he was hardly bothered by our combat. I looked like I'd come right out of a war, with bloody clothes, torn skin and a swelling knuckle, while he barely had broken a sweat. I tried reminding myself that I'd been fighting for a much longer period of time today, but I knew that, even if our combating times weren't uneven, he'd still be doing far better than I was.

Tilting his head, Serec gave me a once-over. "Tired?"

I let out a harsh breath. "No," I barked, straightening my posture. "Of course not!"

He grinned. "Good."

I narrowed my eyes. What was he playing at?

A flash of silver flew over his shoulder. Serec didn't flinch and watched as the silver plummeted for my face. Shrieking, I spun to the side and narrowly avoided it.

I looked over my shoulder, searching for whatever that had been. But, just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. I couldn't spot it. I rose a brow, what even was tha–

Pain erupted as a force buried into my cheek. I was sent staggering back, salvia dripping out my mouth. Black swirled at the edges of my mind as I pressed hand to my face.

I looked up just in time to catch a white blur.

Stars burst in my vision as my head snapped back. Salty liquid slipped into my mouth as a pounding jolted from my nose. Something swept underneath my feet and, with a choked cry, I was flat on my back.

I gasped, salvia gurgling from the back of my throat.

Black swam across my vision as ringing screamed in my ears. Hot blood streamed down my jaw and into my hair. Against my will, my eyelids slipped shut. I could hear Serec chuckling, but I was so tired – so exhausted – that I couldn't care any longer.

Pins and needles crawled along my scalp. I screamed as I was pulled by my hair to my knees. Something sharp was held to my throat, preventing me from moving. Opening my eyes, I held back a gasp – it was my knife. It was coated in a thin layer of ice, held in a cloaked hand.

I saw his bared teeth before his eyes. He stood inches from my face, bent at the waist, nose almost touching my forehead as his breath washed over my face.

He laughed – a cruel, cold cackle. "Show me!" He demanded, pressing the knife further. "I want to see them for myself – I want to see your powers, milady!"

I spat blood.

He recoiled, reaching up to wipe the reddish saliva from his face. I hissed as the blade nicked my throat and a droplet slid down my chest. Gritting my teeth, I took advantage of his distraction and swung up my fist in an uppercut.

_Crunch._

I heard Serec's upper and lower rows of teeth making contact and grimaced. His head snapped backwards and the knife slipped from his fingers.

I scrambled out of his grasp. Standing to my feet, the ground made an alarming shift. I squeezed my eyes shut and clung to the metal stackbin. I chewed on my bottom lip as my stomach shifted. Beads of sweat slipped down my forehead. I needed to continue – I needed to continue. I couldn't rest until this was over.

My eyelashes fluttered.

Blood dripped down Serec's white shirt as he pinched his nose. My knife was by his feet. I outstretched my palm in its direction and summoned my weapon.

. . . only for nothing to happen.

My eyes widened. What?

I tried again. Then again. And again. But the knife refused to move. It sat perfectly still by Serec's feet, glinting in the moonlight.

I blinked. Why wasn't it moving–

His eyes snapped in my direction, burning with mirth. He spread his arm in the knife's direction, spreading apart his fingers. And, as if pulled by strings, the knife rose from the ground flew into his open palm.

My mouth fell open.  _How–_

That's when I saw it – glistening in the moonlight was a thin layer of ice coating the blade. My jaw tightened. Of course –  _ice._  No doubt, even when injured, Serec could manipulate it. He wasn't controlling the blade, but the ice frozen to it.

I hated to admit it, but it was sort of brilliant.

Serec bared his teeth and broke into a run, holding out the knife, and swiped viciously at my face. Jumping back, the blade missed my nose by a hair. He struck again; twisting my body away, it only glanced my side. He continued furiously swiping, whilst I barely avoided his attacks.

I knew that my levels of exhaustion were beginning to catch up with me. My reflexes were slowing and fatigue was weighing down my muscles. And Serec knew this; he'd been holding back, aware I'd been battling for hours today. So, he challenged me to a fight in which he'd barely been using any of his strength, to dissipate mine. I gritted my teeth, swinging to the side to avoid the blade on my neck – that'd been his plan all along.

He then acted so quickly I barely saw it – one minute he'd been attacking me with my own knife, then the next he'd reached forward with an open palm.

_SMACK!_

The impact left me stumbling back, clutching my red cheek. My head smacked into the bin as my mind was left reeling. My eyes caught onto a familiar wooden instrument at my feet–

The same white blur overtook my vision and my skull smashed against the gravel. The edges of my vision were darkening and it was hard to breathe. Fighting the dark, I realised that Serec sat on my chest and had pinned my shoulders back with his knees.

I stared up into his eyes; his dark, pitiless eyes. Everything in my body, every fibre, was screaming at me to fight . . . but I was so tired.

Then, I remembered – the bat! The bat had been at my feet when I'd fallen. Rows of vicious teeth curled into an alienating smile. He leaned down closer, face looming over mine, as his eyes bore into mine.

I felt sick.

"Show me," he begged, breath close to my ear.

I bared my teeth. "Fuck–" My knuckles burned as I felt around for the bat. It had to be somewhere. "Fuck you!"

His face darkened.

Then launched the blade into my palm.

I screamed. Not just from my mouth, but my whole body. Eyes wide with terror, my screams pierced the night air. I tried breaking away, but the pain was excruciating. He chuckled and pushed the knife further into my flesh. The scream was louder, cracking under pressure. The metal disappeared into my flesh, digging into the ground, and the hilt pushed against my skin. I roared in agony at the excruciating pain. Warmth pooled my palm and ran down my waist.

I slammed my head again and again against the gravel.

It hurt – so, so much.

Something wrapped tightly around my throat, cutting off my screams. Black swirled in my mind, drawing me into it's open arms as salty tears spilt down my cheeks and into my hair.

Opening my eyes, Serec's wide eyes loomed over mine. "Use your powers, milady!" He demanded, spittle flying from his mouth and soaking me. "Defend yourself!"

My breaths were gasps, but his hold tightened. My vision blurred as darkness pushed further. My ears were pulsating – was I going deaf? There's nothing but ringing . . .

My eyes slipped shut.

Warm wetness spread through my hair, soaking my shoulders. The smell twisted my stomach. I didn't care – I wouldn't have to smell it much longer. The strength was leaving me . . . the ringing . . . fading . . .

" _Do you have this?"_

I wanted to cry – I failed. I'd failed everyone; Phoebe, Arnold, Nel, George . . . everyone.

" _She's nothing but a pretty fake . . . she won't last . . ."_

He was right.

I'd never stood a chance – it was obvious. Not against the Mutants, Serec or . . .anyone.

. . . death. What would my parents think? Would they care? Would they be surprised? How would the police report my death – Blue Jay's or Helga's? I wasn't sure if, once dead, I would be myself or Blue Jay. Would anyone care if it were Helga? It was no secret that I wasn't well-liked. Even my family ignored my existence. Would anyone be bothered if they read my name on the news?

Phoebe might. But she and I barely talk anymore. She has other friends now. She'd get over it. Bob always preferred Olga. Miriam would barely notice my absence. Olga's too perfect to care for inconveniences like me. And Arnold . . . never cared for me.

Was that why I was chosen as a Guardian? Not for virtues like bravery, determination or selflessness, but rather because no one would miss me if I were gone? Was that the only . . .

My eyesight blurred. Everything was fuzzy, then I saw nothing. The pain that once burnt like flames faded into icy numbness. I could only hear my heartbeat as an inky space filled my vision. Sobs echoed in my ears, alongside fading please for help.

I didn't care anymore.

I didn't . . .

A gasp.

Then – it disappeared.

The pressure – from my neck and chest.

Cold, crisp air assaulted my throat as I hacked. I coughed – violent expulsions of air – but inhaled large gulps. My ribs heaved, but I felt no benefit. My eyesight was blurry and heart racing. Tears slipped down my face, leaving a dry, tight feeling, I brought a shaking hand to my throat – I could breathe. Why?

My vision was blurry, but I moved my head in his direction – Serec's. I moved my gaze to him, but I only saw a white blur. He stood in front of me, just –  _staring_.

My eyebrows crinkled. Why hadn't he killed me?

I blinked – twice, thrice, four times – I wasn't sure. Enough to see him.

He stared, open-mouthed. His bloody hands were held out as he examined the stains. I tried sitting up, but, with a bloody burst, remembered there was a knife stuck in my palm and shrieked.

He looked up, startled, with wide eyes. "You–" He licked his lips. "You don't have your powers."

I winced, but couldn't deny. What was the point? It was obvious; no one could produce a lie good enough that would convince otherwise.

The corner of his eyes crinkled as a smile spread across his lips. A surprised chuckle broke through. He bit his lip to suppress the snickers, but, mouth twitching, he eventually couldn't hold it back. Face twitching, he burst into a deep, throaty laugh. His eyes were filled with joy as he bent forward, clutching his stomach.

I didn't know how to react, but I knew that whatever made him react like this was in no way good news for me.

Eventually, he stopped and stood up, wiping away a loose tear from his eye. "Oh, milady, this is such exciting news!" He smirked. "I can't wait for Acantha to find out–" my heart stopped "–take care of that wound. Wouldn't want you to fight with a handicap, would we?"

Then, with a sly wink, he spun around and disappeared into the alley, leaving me alone.

I slumped back, head resting against the ground. My mind spun as I desperately tried to grasp at what had just happened. Serec, one of Acantha's henchmen, had discovered my weakness – I no longer had my powers.

I was just a girl, slightly stronger than an average human, fighting alone, with little to no training whatsoever.

The realisation hit me in one mighty wave.

I was weak. To them, I was no different from other humans – stopping me would be easy. After all, there was only one of me and thousands of them.

My mind began failing. I couldn't breathe – it felt like Serec had wrapped his hands around me. It felt as if claws had cut through my body as reality began sinking in. Because, even though Nel would continue to train me, there was no way I could succeed. Acantha and her army were strong, stronger then I – it was only a matter of time for them to kill me.

The world became a blur.

As did the sounds – the taste – the smell.

Everything was gone.

I paused – trying to hold the strange feelings back.

And couldn't.

A lone tear traced down my temple, soaking my stained hair. And just like that – the dams broke. The muscles in my chin trembled like a child's. I looked up at the moon, as if the light would soothe me. Salty tears slipped down my temples. I gasped for air that wasn't there. Brick by brick, my walls crumbled as sobs punched through. My vocal chords strained as a raw cry ripped from my blubbering mouth.

Everything I'd experienced in the past few days burst like an uproar from my throat in a silent scream. Hugging my legs to my chest, I curled in a fetal position as sobs wracked through my body. The searing pain in my palm only brought forth another torrent of tears. Curling into a ball, I hope and waited for someone to save me. But no one would, no one was there. A choked cry for help forced itself from my throat as another drop ran down my face.

But no one would come – of course not, no one was there.

It was just me.

Alone.

Fighting alone. Battling Mutants alone . . . dying alone.

I was a cow bred for slaughter. A prisoner waiting for her execution. Living up until now had been nothing more than a stroke of luck. Without powers, I was no more powerful than anyone else – no more than  _Helga._

Digging my palm into my eyes, I scrubbed away the tears.

Poor Helga, no one truly loved her. People loved Blue Jay, but Helga? Never. No one loved Helga. Hell, even Blue Jay's pin wanted her dead. That's why Helga was picked, right? Because her death wouldn't mean anything to anyone. It wouldn't get attention. It was perfect – no one would stop to think twice about  _her_ death.

Something snapped.

It felt as if someone had lit a fire in my gut. It burned inside of me. Every new realisation was like gasoline. My hand clenched into a white fist.

Helga, Helga, Helga – no one cared for Helga. Such a vile, ugly little thing. The embodiment of weak. She could disappear and no one would blink. Not even Arnold–

I tore the blade from my palm.

The pain was instanteous. Electric shockwaves shot through my body and caught fire. It was merciless without escape. Crying out, a sharpshooting pain shot up my shoulder. My eyes watered in agony until the floor became a pond of tears and blood.

I rolled into a tighter ball of self-loathing, holding my wounded hand to my chest. I wished for my world to end rather than this sea of endless currents, but waves continued to crash over me.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream badly.

But I wasn't weak.

_. . . I wasn't weak . . ._

I was Blue Jay – Blue Jay wasn't weak.

Biting my tongue to keep the screams at bay, the world around me felt motionless. There was absolute stillness. No air stirred the newspaper balls. No clouds drifted in the dark night sky. Not a sound could be heard either close at hand or in the distance. Even my breath died as soon as it left my mouth.

It was an eerie sort of tranquillity.

My eyelids fluttered open.

The bat lay next to me.

 _Blue Jay . . ._ she wasn't weak. Nor was she done.

My body trembled as I pushed myself from the ground, wiping away the tears from my eyes.

No. She wasn't finished for the night.

She still had one job to do.

* * *

"Here."

Confused eyes flickered to mine, then glanced down at the bat under his nose. His forehead crinkled as he noticed the red stain spreading across the fabric wrapped around my hand.

I gritted my teeth. "Take it." My tongue was quiet, deadly. I wanted to go home. "It's yours."

Those eyes – speckled, dark and innocent – turned to me. Then, wordlessly, he took the bat and stepped back.

I turned to leave.

"Wait!" I almost cried hearing  _his_  voice. "Blue Jay – you're injured."

I didn't turn, but paused. Arnold can't see. None of them can see me. If I look at them, they'll see . . . the pain tearing through me.

So, I block them out.

"Doesn't matter," I spoke over my shoulder. At this point, it was only Arnold, Gerald and three other boys. One of whom I'd stolen from.

I went to leave.

But Arnold persisted. "But Blue Jay–"

"Arnold–!" My fists shook and I swung around, prepared to tell him to piss off when I caught sight of their faces. Their frightened, vulnerable faces. My heart sank. They were scared too. Maybe more than me. They didn't know if that man was coming back, or another Mutant. They didn't know if they were safe.  _Join the club._ "Just–" Arnold's eyes burned with empathy. I almost cried. He was such a good person. That's why everyone loved him. "J–Just–" Including me. I loved him. More than anything.

I looked to the child in his arms. My heart melted. Oh, George – sweet, innocent George. He was only a child, but even he recognised the seriousness of the situation. Seeing him frown like that . . . I didn't like it. My stomach churned painfully. But why? Why was I so deeply affected by a kid I didn't kn–

It suddenly clicked.

Everything – why I was so fiercely protective of him, why he brought out these almost maternal feelings from me . . . looking at how snugly Arnold held him . . . I realised that George reminded me of Arnold. Not only that, but the two of the together was a picture I'd dreamt of as a little girl. George's hair was slightly darker than Arnold's while his eyes were similar to mine. He fit so perfectly in both our arms – George reminded me of the family I'd always wished for. He was a mixture of Arnold and I . . . a union that never would–

"Just go home," I snapped. Arnold flinched and bit his lips. I grimaced, I hadn't meant to sound like that. ". . . and stay safe."

He looked back up with widened eyes. I forced a brief smile and turned–

"But Blue Jay," Gerald burst, stepping forward. "Aren't you inj–?"

"For your safety." Pausing, I looked over my shoulder to flash a crooked smile. "And I'm fine. Just stay safe –  _please._ "

I hated that tone, it was pleading, vulnerable . . .  _weak._

So, I kept walking, not sparing them another glance.

"But–"

I left before Arnold could finish.

* * *

Darkness caved in.

It suffocated me like a damp blanket, clinging to every inch of my pale skin. The world was etched in charcoal, my feet bare. Sanguine dripped down my body. The wind was icy – I shivered. Where was I?

It was pitch black. I felt blind, like my eyes had been gouged out. My body washed cold. Had they? I brought a finger to my eye sockets – they were still there.

I breathed. But where was I?

Two eyes appeared, glowing like miniature suns. They seemed familiar, but I couldn't recognise them. Beneath the suns, those glowing orbs of obsidian, appeared a grin that showed every sharp tooth. Neither moved; the eyeball, nor the stretched lips.

I stared.  _Serec–_

There was a metallic flash as a blade was whipped out, clutched in a pair of white hands. I was frozen, muscles locked in place, as the knife moved closer and closer.

The blade aligned between my brows.

I shut my eyes, awaiting the pain–

* * *

"–so unfair, man!"

My eyes snapped open.

Confusion blossomed. I couldn't see anything but bright, piercing light. Groaning, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and adjusted to the sun's rays. The light retreated and sunk into familiar shapes . . . I realised where I stood.

Outside Arnold's house – waiting for the bus.

I blinked.

Then sighed. Had I fallen asleep again?

As I rubbed my temples, something warm brushed against my face. Looking at my hand, I realised I wore a pair of navy blue, fingerless gloves . . . ah, it was beginning to come back now – I didn't want anyone seeing my bandages. And Arnold and Gerald had both seen Blue Jay's injury, which I knew would cause some issues. So, I'd cover my bandages with my gloves, which I often wore during winter anyway. It wasn't winter, of course, but like they were really gonna stop to alert me that.

My mind felt empty. I barely remembered anything after I got home. But I'm fairly sure I didn't want to. Getting home, I had to tend to my wounds and, since Nel was a cat and therefore didn't have human hands, it was up to me. The last I remembered was biting down on a rag as I sewed shut the cut on my shoulder–

I grimaced. Nope, I'd forgotten for a reason. If my exhausted mind had managed to block it out, I most certainly wouldn't go against its wishes.

I stifled a yawn. Despite getting more sleep last night than I had in the past week, it still wasn't enough. I'd risen like the dead and moved passively as my mind continued to sink back into dreamland. I didn't know how I was getting through school today, but I figured I'd ditch P.E. to catch up on some much-needed rest. I just didn't have the energy to put up with Ms. Ainsley and her fiancé troubles today.

Voices began surfacing as if rising from murky water. ". . . you really blame them, Gerald?" That was Arnold. I could recognise him anywhere. "I mean, it was because of us that George almost . . ."

There was an awkward pause that fell over them.

I frowned.  _Both_  of them? Who else–

"But, Arnold–"

Ah, I nodded with recognition. Gerald.

"No buts, Gerald," Arnold cut off. I rose my brows – he sounded angry. Like, almost furious. I'd barely seen this side of Arnold, most certainly not anymore. What had him so wound up? "It was because of  _us_  that they almost lost a son . . . we have no one to blame but ourselves."

 _Oh._  My heart dropped. I knew what they were talking about.

A heavy silence settled.

My eyes remained on my shoes as I bit my lip nervously. I couldn't bare to look at them, not after last night. In fact, I'd gladly go without seeing anyone from last night again. After how they looked at me . . . how I'd yelled at them . . .

"So, uh," George cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What happened . . . after they, erm, fired you, that is?"

What – they  _fired_  him?

There was another pause as Arnold shuffled his feet. "What do you, uh, mean?"

"I mean," Gerald flung around his arms. "Like, what happened to the kid? Did they hire another sitter or somethin'?"

"I dunno, Gerald," Arnold sounded exhausted. "After they fired me, they said it'd be best if I left. I don't know what happened. I'd doubt they'd want to discuss it – or  _anything_  – with me."

I bit my lip. They  _fired_  him. Then told him to leave.

Guilt swarmed my chest. I'd soured the relationship between Arnold and Gerald's parents. If I had just been quicker, or maybe if I had gone with him to explain or perhaps even lie and take the blame . . . if I hadn't been so selfish, Arnold would still have his job. And George wouldn't be alone, left with another babysitter who wouldn't understand him like Arnold had.

"That really sucks, man," Gerald admitted, reaching over to pat his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Arnold's shoulders slumped and he hung his head, accepting Gerald's comfort.

"I just feel really bad, bro," Gerald frowned and shook his head. "I mean, it was because of me that you even went out in the fir–"

Arnold looked up. "It's not your fault, Gerald," he smiled, but somehow it didn't seem as whole as usual. "It's mine – I was the one that agreed to it. You weren't the babysitter, I was."

My heart crumbled –  _was_.

Gerald seemed as convinced as I did, and frowned. "But–"

"And, anyway," Arnold beamed, eyes glimmering. "At least George is okay. And us, for that matter."

He wanted to end this conversation. He didn't want others feeling sorry for him – Arnold just wasn't like that. He'd rather change the subject to something else then bring anyone else down with his own strife.

My heart cried for him. I wish I was like that. Arnold was like fire – a flame that kept burning and burning. His light would always shine. Bright and brighter. I wanted so badly to be like him.

A line appeared between Gerald's eyebrows. He seemed torn between respecting his friend's privacy and letting the subject drop or insisting that Arnold talk about his actual feelings and lift some of the weight from his shoulders.

Ultimately, he decided to honour Arnold's wishes.

"Yeah," a crooked smile spread across his lips. "Guess we are."

Just in time – our school bus, a hazy yellow blur, pulled up in front of us. The door shuttered open and, for a moment, my eyes locked with Arnold's. He rose his eyebrows and smiled as he gestured for me to go first. My cheeks warmed and I looked down at my shoes, hiding my face behind my hair.

He blinked in confusion but turned back to Gerald as the darker male went ahead to enter the bus. Shrugging, he also climbed inside.

Sighing, I went to step into the bus, when–

"George!"

I froze.

 _George?_ As in–

"Where're you going, buddy?!"

I looked up in the direction of the calls and felt my mouth drop. Running down the sidewalk was a familiar blonde kid. My heart swelled as he moved vigorously, like a ball of sunshine. His golden hair consumed his face, save for the smile that could light up any dark day. The smile he wore was the biggest I'd seen and I couldn't help smiling also.

But where was he going? I looked over my shoulder and blinked. There was nothing that seemed particularly exciting to invoke such a joyful reaction.

Hmm, maybe he was visiting a friend–

"Lady."

My eyes widened – no way.

Turning around, my heart dropped at the beaming kid that stood at my feet.

I blinked. What did he want?

George giggled and tugged on my skirt, gesturing that I bent down.

I was so astonished that I didn't even think about it. Nodding, I lowered myself to my knees, crouching to the balls of my feet. His smile was bright as we stood face-to-face, it instantly pierced my heart. I felt everyone's dumbfounded gazes boring into my back as they questioned why a kid would wanna talk to  _me_. Honestly, I agreed – what did George want? I wasn't Blue Jay. So, in his mind, he didn't know me.

He smiled and wordlessly pressed something into my hand. I looked at my palm – it was a folded piece of paper. Narrowing my eyes, I opened and examined it. It was a crayon drawing of a blonde boy held in the arms of a woman dressed in a white leotard, with long, flowing hair. It was unmistakably him and Blue Jay.

My jaw dropped as I turned to face him.

His smile was suddenly shy. "I-It's . . ."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Blue Jay."

It was an innocent drawing – a child depicting a scene of someone he admired. Perhaps his way of coping with last night. But, to me, it spoke volumes of unsaid words. Words that comforted and pained me.

He ducked his gaze to the ground, cheeks pink. "Yeah," he nodded bashfully. "Would you please give it to her?"

And when he lifted his gaze to look at me, I knew. I knew that little six-year-old George had figured it out.

He knew I was Blue Jay.

He'd seen me without my mask.

"George!"

A dishevelled brunette man dressed in a suit, sweating profusely, suddenly appeared. I rose a brow – he was handsome, but clearly didn't know much about exercising. He panted loudly as his running slowed to fast footsteps.

From the bus, I heard someone hiss,  _"Shit!"_  I looked behind just in time to catch a flash of blonde hair and dark curls ducking underneath the bus window.

Then everything made sense.

Turning back to the man smiling apologetically at me, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, I realised that he was George's father.

"Sorry about this, miss," he laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "He just sorta ran off."

I opened my mouth to brush off the apology, when a woman appeared. She was much more casually dressed then the man – she wore a long-sleeved shirt, tugged into a pair of baggy jeans and an old pair of sneakers. Her short hair was the same as George's – a vibrant, untameable blonde.

"I'm sorry, dear," she apologised in a light voice. "He's been like this all day – George, c'mere, you know you're not supposed to talk to strangers."

George pouted, puffing out his red cheeks.

Then, suddenly, George knowing about my identity didn't bother me as much. I don't know what it was, but something about him lessened my worry. A soft tug at my heartstrings reminded me of that instinct I'd felt last night.

And I found myself laughing.

A real, god forsaken laugh. The joyful bubbling coming from inside felt as if a gigantic weight had fallen from my chest.

I practically  _heard_  people's jaws dropping from the bus as I laughed carelessly. I didn't blame them – I wasn't exactly known for laughing at anything other than at someone else's expense.

Turning back to George's parents, I wiped away a tear that had escaped. I smiled apologetically as they stared at me bizarrely. "It's alright," I nodded with a grin. "He and I were just having a nice chat, right, George?"

I sent him a look, silently asking if my secret was safe. A smile burst across his face as he nodded excitedly, "Yeah!"

I ducked my head closer to his. "And you know what, George?"

His eyes were twinkling. "What?"

"I have a secret for you."

"What?!"

"I happen to know Blue Jay," I proudly raised my chin and crossed my arms. "And I can personally deliver this to her."

He eagerly smiled. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I pointed a finger to the paper. "And y'know what? She's gonna love it . . . it's so beautiful."

He stared at me, wide-eyed, as the meaning behind my words sunk in. Then, pursing his lips, he ducked his head and ran into my arms. I was taken aback, as were his parents and – hell, the entire  _bus_. I think I even heard someone collapsing from shock.

Mind racing, my swollen heart pounded and, next thing I knew, I'd wrapped my arms around George and pulled him into my warmth. Nestling my chin on his head, I breathed slowly as my tight muscles lost their tension.

I was confused; a hug was a simple, normal gesture, yet I'd received it so little that, even from a child, it was enough to make everything seem warmer, for hope to shine brighter.

His parents smiled, warmth in their gazes. Taking her husband into her arms, George's mother smiled at me, mouthing,  _"Thank you."_

Why was she thanking me? From her perspective, I did nothing but talk to her son. But, when he gently squeezed me again, I couldn't bring myself to ponder for much longer. This kid, this innocent kid, seemed to awaken something new in me. The world seemed a little less dark.

Smiling back, I mouthed,  _"You're welcome."_

A rambunctious blaring jarred me from my peaceful state as Pete slammed his hand down on the wheel. We both jumped and, growling, I yelled, "Stick it in your ear – I'm coming!"

George's mother giggled.

Turning back to George, I smiled warmly. "Gotta go, kiddo," I said, bumping his chin with the tops of my knuckles.

He giggled and lightly battered away my hand. His smile then slipped as something occurred to him. "Tell Blue Jay she's really cool, okay?" He pressed together his lips and nodded determinedly. "She didn't look like she knew that last night . . . which is sad, cause everyone at school thinks so – so should she."

My heart thundered. But I covered it with a shaky smile. "Yeah, of course, kid. I'll be sure to–"

Another infuriating cry from the buses engine. I gritted my teeth and turned to glare at Pete, who gave me a pointed, impatient look. "I'm coming!" I barked, cause, really, this overgrown man-child was getting on my nerves.

Shoving the paper into my pocket, I gave George a smirk and climbed to my feet. Dusting off the invisible dust from my pants, I winked and gave a small wave, "Seeya, kid."

He giggled.

As I climbed up the stairs, I gave Pete a particularly nasty look. Of course, the coward promptly ignored me and kept his grey eyes pointed ahead. Rolling my eyes, I threw myself on the closest free seat and looked out the window. I ignored everyone's stares, focusing on the family outside and giving them a tiny wave.

Scooping the child in their arms, the family had barely risen their hands to return the gesture when the buses door slammed shut and shot off down the street. I'd imagined that we'd lost quite a bit of time in our schedule, but, given that Pete was a dick, I didn't care.

Eventually, everyone resumed their conversations with their friends and the level of chattering rose.

Letting loose a breath, I slumped in my chair and stared up at the ceiling. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the paper. As I began unfolding it, something caught my eyes. On the other side was a message, written in blue ink.

I scrambled to read it.

_To Blue Jay,_

_You seemed really upset when we left last night. But I don't know why, you're super awesome! You're like Supergirl or Wonderwoman – and they're sick!_

_We're not allowed to go out and find you, so I figured I could tell you in a letter, like my letters to Santa_

_So, I wanted to say thank you for saving me, Arnold and his friends. They seemed sad, but I know they're grateful to_

_I have to go to bed now, but just know that you're super cool_

_Love, George Caldwell xx_

_p.s. I can't wait to tell my friends about you_

I suddenly had forgotten to breathe. Both my eyes and mouth were wide open. I was unable to speak, totally stunned as a new realisation bounced in my skull.

I knew that writing–

Looking up, I met a pair of panicked, green eyes.

–it was Arnold's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I wrote the first draft of the Mutant fight scene to 'Walking on Sunshine'. Oh, and I also wrote the last draft of the entire chapter to Reputation . . . So, do with that knowledge as you would.  
> So, what'd ya guys think? Worth the wait, garbage - tell me in the comments, y'all! Did Arnold's point of view feel decent, I'm pretty satisfied with what I got. It was nice to break away from Helga for a little bit, cause Arnold's obviously not as pressured as her, aha!


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